3  1822  01605  0700 


BRARY 

rf  OF 
DRNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


J 

-^     . .    - 


'NIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822016050700 


Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall  after  two  weeks. 

Date  Due 


JUH  2 1 IS33 


Cl  39  (1/91) 


UCSOLib. 


WITH    SA'DI    IN    THE    GARDEN 


OR 


THE    BOOK    OF    LOVE 


WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN 


OR 


TBoofe  of  Lofce 


BEING 

THE  "ISHK"  OR   THIRD  CHAPTER  OF  THE  "BOS  TAN' 
OF    THE  PERSIAN  POET  SA'DI 


EmbofctcB  in  a  Dialogue  tylo  in  Hje  ©attocn  of  tt)e 
(Taj  fHafjal,  at 


BY 

SIR   EDWIN    ARNOLD,  M.A.,  K.C.I. E.,  C.S.I. 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  LIGHT  OF  ASIA,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


BOSTON 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS 

1888 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


CIus   Doiuuic  is 

TO 

THE  RIGHT  HON.   THE   EARL   OF  DUFFERIN,  K.P. 

ETC.,    ETC.,    ETC 

Viceroy  and  Governor-General  of  India, 
WITH 

THE  AUTHOR'S  RESPECT,  ADMIRATION,  AND  ATTACHMENT. 


[NOTE.  —  The  sections  in  this  poem  taken  directly  from  the 
Persian  are  printed  in  italics,  and  present  the  third  chapter  of  the 
Bostan  nearly  as  it  stands  in  the  text  of  Sa'di.  The  bulk  of 
the  poem  is  original,  though  some  passages  imitate  the  Persian 
manner.  Utmost  acknowledgments  are  due  to  the  prose  trans- 
lation of  "The  B6staV  by  Capt.  H.  Wilberforce  Clarke,  R.E., 
one  of  the  very  best  and  most  faithful  ever  made  from  an  Oriental 
classic.  Those  familiar  with  Persian  literature  will  be  aware  of 
certain  necessary  modifications.  The  accomplished  singing-girls 
are  types  from  the  life.] 


PROEME. 

SwEET  Friends  !  who  love  the  Music  of  the  Sun, 
And  listened — glad  and  gracious  —  many  an  one, 
While,  on  a  light-strung  lyre,  I  sought  to  tell 
Indian  Siddartha's  wisdom  ;  and  the  spell 
Ofjayadev's  deep  verse;  and  proud  deeds  wrought 
By  Pandu  Princes;  and  how  gems  are  fraught 
With  meanings;  and  to  count  each  golden  bead 
Of  Allah's  names  of  Beauty ;  and  to  read 
High  tender  lessons  Upanishads  teach  — 
"  Secret  of  Death,"  and  subtle  soul  of  speech 
In  holy  OM;  and  to  con  —  line  by  line  — 
The  lofty  glory  of  the  "  Lay  Divine''''  — 
Arjuna's  speech  with  Krishna:  —  once  more  come, 
And  listen  to  the  Vina  and  the  Drum'. 
Come  once  more  with  me  from  our  sombre  skies 
To  hear  great  Sa'dfs  tuneful  mysteries  — 
"  Nightingale  of  a  thousand  lays"  — for  he 
Will,  ''mid  the  Garden,  sing  in  many  a  key 


Vlll  PROEME. 

Rare  Persian  airs.    But,  tell  them  first,  my  Song !  • 
Lest  they  do  thee,  and  me,  and  Sa'di  wrong  — 
To  come  with  hearts  to  gentle  thoughts  inclined, 
Since  this  is  only  for  the  wise  and  kind; 
And,  of  itself  ,  our  Garden  shuts  its  gate 
On  him  that 's  hard,  cold,  uncompassionate; 
But  opens  wide  its  alleys,  green  and  still, 
To  Sesame  of  Love  and  fair  Good-will! 

Schooner  Yacht  "  Hadassah, "  off  Portland; 
July  12,  1888. 


WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

OB, 

THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE. 

Intaflmttfaiu 

AT  Agra  we  had  seen  the  City-sights, 

The  Fort,  the  Mosques,  the  busy  hot  bazaars  ; 

Akbar's  red  bulwarks,  —  shutting  treasures  in 

With  league-long  ramp  of  sandstone,  —  Hathi  Pul, 

The  Bathing-House  of  Mirrors,  Ghuznee's  Gates, 

Diwan-i-Khas,  Diwan-i-Am,  the  Court 

Of  Jasmine,  Machi  Bhawun,  and.  that  gem 

Of  holy  places  named  the  "  House  of  Pearl "  — 

Moti-Musjid,  where  Archangels  might  pray 

And  miss  no  grace  of  Heaven,  no  purity  !  — 

Under  the  zigzagged  cream  and  rosy  roof 

Of  Jah&nara's  Mosque  our  unshod  feet 
l 


2  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Had  lingered,  mid  the  Muslim  worshippers  ; 
To  Itimad-ud-Dowlah's  sepulchre  - 
By  will  of  Nourmahal,  "  Light  of  the  world," 
Upreared  and  carved  —  we  had  made  pilgrimage  ; 
And,  at  Sikandra,  to  great  Akbar's  tomb  ; 
And  once,  and  twice,  and  thrice,  to  Taj-Mahal. 

Ah,  the  white  wonder !     Have  there  been  who  came 
And  gazed,  —  and  laid  staff  and  surveying  chain 
Along  thy  sacred  sides,  Fairest  of  fanes ! 
To  turn  away,  saying,  "  The  plan  errs  thus ! 

* 

The  plinth  lacks  this !  the  arch  was  ill-conceived  ! 
'T  is  but  a  cube  of  stone  with  angles  lopped  ! 
Much  seems  yet  needed  to  the  architraves  ! 
The  lattice  gives  no  light !  the  casing-stones 
Are  mere  veneer  ?  "     Measurers  parcel-blind 
Who,  with  yard-rule  would  count  the  inches  off 
From  Aphrodite's  Parian  majesty, 
And  stretch  tape  o'er  Elysian  asphodel ! 


OE,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  3 

He  hath  not  eyes  to  see  whose  eyes  have  seen 

That  glory  of  the  beauty  of  the  Taj, 

Nor  knew  and  felt  —  at  seeing  —  how  man's  hand 

Comes  nearest  God's  herein,  touching  His  charm 

Of  rounded  silvery  clouds  in  that  poised  Dome 

Which  hangs  between  the  sky's  blue  and  the  stream's — 

Fixing  the  fleeting  structures  of  His  snow 

In  those  piled  pilasters  and  stainless  flats 

"Which  mount  and  mount  —  delicate,  drifted,  still ;  — 

Simple,  yet  subtle,  as  the  curves  and  shades 

Of  the  white  breasts  of  her  it  celebrates, 

Arjamand  Banu,  Queen  of  Love  and  Death : 

A  passion,  and  a  worship,  and  a  faith 

Writ  fast  in  alabaster,  so  that  Earth 

Hath  nothing  anywhere  of  mortal  toil 

So  fine-wrought,  so  consummate,  so  supreme  — 

So,  beyond  praise,  Love's  loveliest  monument  — 

As  what  in  Agra,  upon  Jumna's  bank, 

Shah  Jahan  builded  for  his  Lady's  grave. 


4  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Oh,  friends !  verse  is  too  bold  seeking  to  tell 
How  beautiful  this  Eastern  Tomb  doth  rise, 
How  fair  by  sun  or  moonlight,  how  superb 
This  house  of  Love  and  Death  —  all  lily-white 
In  the  green  garden  upon  Jumna's  shore ! 
The  City,  swarming  past  the  River's  bend, 
Wafts  no  noise  here ;  far  off  you  may  discern 
The  bridge  of  boats,  the  Fort's  red  wall,  the  Domes  — 
Three  pearly  foam-bells  —  of  the  Mosque  of  Pearl 
Suspended  o'er  those  distant  parapets  ; 
Ram-Bagh  ;  the  tall  palm-groves  by  Akbar's  grave  ; 
And  Akbar's  judgment-terrace.    Here  the  stream  — 
Yamuna,  silver  daughter  of  the  Sun  — 
Glides  broad  and  silent,  washing  sandy  flats 
And  ancient  water-gates.     By  avenues 
Of  neem  and  palsa  ;  past  low  huts  of  mat, 
Gay  painted  country-dwellings,  topes,  and  wells, 
Temples,  and  little  shrines  where  gilded  gods 
Squat  with  crossed  legs  —  Balkrishna,  Hanuman ; 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE. 

By  pan  and  bangle  shops,  by  weaving-grounds, 
By  creaking  Persian  wheels,  rice-fields,  and  tanks 
Winds  the  cantonment-way,  made  populous 
With  tread  of  patient  feet,  which  come  and  go 
Doing  the  errands  of  their  placid  day. 
You  meet  the  brown-limbed  laden  coolie  girls, 
The  ekkas  with  full  freight  of  pots  and  wives, 
The  camels  stalking  slow,  the  palanquins, 
The  belted  peon,  the  sweetmeat-man,  the  ox 
Grave-pacing  with  his  spurting  water-skins ; 
The  spangled  dancing-girls,  the  fishermen, 
Byragis,  sepoys,  hamals,  jungle-folk, 
The  people  of  an  Agra  afternoon : 
When,  suddenly,  —  wheels  stop,  bridles  are  drawn, 
One  cries,  "  The  Taj !  "     We  are  at  entrance  gate 
Of  India's  pride,  the  Tomb,  the  House  of  Rest 
For  Mumtaz-i-Mahal,  the  "  Exalted  one  "  — 
Queen  of  her  Sultan's  heart,  and  Hindostan — 
Here  by  her  Lord  and  Lover  laid  to  sleep. 


6  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

And  here,  too,  sleeps  the  stately  King  who  planned 
This  splendor  for  his  sorrow  —  Shah  Jahan  — 
Twelve  score  years  back  Sultan  of  India, 
Ruler  august,  and  sire  of  Aurangzebe. 

First  a  proud  archway,  reared  of  rosy  stone 
Banded  with  marble ;  and  a  frontal  wall 
Crowned  by  low  cupolas.     The  demi-vault 
Of  entry  towers  aloft,  framing  huge  space 
Of  azure  heaven,  broad-groined  with  span  and  rib 
In  marbles  brown  and  white  ;  and,  all  the  bands, 
String-courses,  cornices,  range  thick-inlaid 
With  scriptures  from  the  Holy  Book,  tall  scrolls 
Writ  in  commanding  Toghra  —  Alif ,  Lam, 
Ghain,  and  their  solemn  sister  characters, 
Marching  with  step  severe,  and  measured  sweep, 
Him,  Nun,  and  Waw  and  Sin,  made  ornaments 
To  deck  the  door,  and  issue  doctrines  true : 
"  No  God  save  God!    In  name  of  God  the  One  /" 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE. 

Along  the  spandrels ;  on  the  coping-stones 
Tender  deep  things  from  Sura  sixty-seven  — 
The  "  Chapter  of  the  Kingdom  "  —  blazoning 
"  Blessed  is  He  that  hath  the  Kingdom  !     He 
Made  Life  and  Death  to  prove  ye  ;  and  He  made 
The  seven  spheres  of  Heaven  —  each  by  each; 
Say  he  is  God  the  Merciful !  "  and,  then, 
"  Only  the  pure  of  heart  enter  the  gates, 
Enter  God's  Garden!'1 

See  !  that  might  be  this, 
If  Paradise  had  portals  like  Jahan's ! 
For,  through  the  vaulted  door,  opens  to  sight 
A  glorious  garden  —  green,  forever  green, 
Since  hither  comes  no  harsh  nor  biting  time 
To  strip  the  buds,  but,  all  the  warm  year  through, 
The  palms  rise  feathered,  and  the  pipal-boughs 
Whisper  men's  doings  to  the  listening  gods 
With  -watchful  leaves ;  citrons  and  rose-apples 


8  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Keep  their  bright  blossoms  and  their  jewelled  fruits, 

And  broad  bananas  flaunt  their  silken  flags. 

The  spacious  Pleasaunce  shows  on  either  hand 

Dark  verdant  banks  of  various  foliage  — 

Cooling  the  eyes,  and  quieting  the  heart  — 

"With  parterres  interspersed,  and  rose-thickets, 

And  sheets  of  fiery  Indian  marigolds, 

Moon-flowers,  and  shell-flowers  ;  crimson  panoply 

Of  the  silk-cottons,  and  soft  lilac  light 

Where  sunbeams  sift  through  Bougainvilliers  : 

Pink  oleander-sprays  you  mark,  fig-blooms, 

Stars  of  the  champak,  tulip-cups,  and  spikes 

Of  silver-studded  aloes,  with  red  gold 

Of  peacock-bushes,  and  fair  deadly  bells 

Of  white  datura.     What  most  holds  the  eye, 

Leading  it  onward  towards  the  sight  of  sights, 

Is  yon  black  avenue  of  thuja-trees 

With  cypress  intermixed,  ranged,  all  the  way, 

On  either  border  of  the  broad  paved  path, 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  ( 

Like  sentinels  of  honor.     From  the  gate 

Straight  to  the  threshold  of  the  Taj-Mahal 

Those  trees  of  mourning  marshal  you !     Between 

Gleams  the  paved  way,  laid  smooth  in  slabs  of  white 

River-like  running  through  the  banks  of  green  ; 

And,  on  this  middle  pavement  —  all  its  length  — 

Wan  water  lies  entanked,  its  crystal  face 

Rippled  with  gliding  fish,  and  lotus-leaves 

By  the  wind  rocked,  and  rain  of  fountain-drops ; 

For  —  all  its  length  —  jets  of  thin  silver  dart 

Into  the  Blue,  and  sparkle  back  to  the  Blue 

Reflected  in  those  marble-margined  pools. 

Led  thus  by  sombre  cypresses,  and  lines 

Of  dancing  water-jets,  and  lilied  tanks, 

And  glistering  garden-causeway,  the  gaze  lights 

On  that  great  Tomb,  rising  prodigious,  still, 

Matchless,  perfect  in  form,  a  miracle 

Of  grace,  and  tenderness,  and  symmetry, 

Pearl-pure  against  the  sapphire  of  the  sky  ! 


IO  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Enchanted,  the  foot  follows  the  fixed  gaze, 
Which  marks  no    more    the    garden's   wealth,   the 

pools, 

The  tall,  dark  sentry-trees,  the  shining  path, 
The  enlaced  and  rustling  bamboos,  the  plumed  palms 
With  doves  and  sun-birds  in  their  swinging  crowns ; 
Only  it  dwells  on  that  strange  shape  of  grace 
Instinct  with  loveliness  —  not  masonry  ! 
Not  architecture  !  as  all  others  are, 
But  the  proud  passion  of  an  Emperor's  love 
Wrought  into  living  stone,  which  gleams  and  soars 
'With  body  of  beauty  shrining  soul  and  thought, 
Insomuch  that  it  haps  as  when  some  face 
Divinely  fair  unveils  before  our  eyes  — 
Some  woman  beautiful  unspeakably  — 
And  the  blood  quickens,  and  the  spirit  leaps, 
And  will  to  worship  bends  the  half-yielded  knees, 
While  breath  forgets  to  breathe  :  so  is  the  Taj ; 
You  see  it  with  the  heart,  before  the  eyes 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  II 

Have  scope  to  gaze.     All  white !  snow-white  !  cloud- 
white  ! 

Like  a  white  rounded  cloud  seems  that  smooth  dome 
Seated  so  stately  mid  its  sister-domes, 
Waxing  to  waist,  and  waning  to  wan  brow ; 
White,  too,  the  minarets,  like  ivory  towers,  — 
Four  tall  Court  ladies  tending  their  Princess  — 
Set  at  the  four  shorn  corners.     Near  and  far 
The  garden  clasps  the  Sanctuary  in  folds 
Of  rounded  verdure ;  on  its  right  and  left 
Rise  two  fair  Musjids,  Chapels  of  the  shrine, 
Themselves  in  other  spot  majestical : 
The  one  which  looks  to  Mecca  is  for  prayer, 
This  other,  the  Juwab  —  f or-symmetry  — 
Offers  a  resting-house  where  men  may  sit 
And  hear  the  Bulbul  singing  to  the  Rose, 
And  talk  of  Arjamand,  and  Love  and  Death. 
Behind  the  glorious  Tomb  a  court,  a  wall, 
A  bank  which  drops  to  Jumna,  and,  beyond  — 


12  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Over  the  River,  where  her  Emperor  died  — 
Brindaban,  and  a  hundred  leagues  of  plain. 

Hushed,  you  advance  —  your  gaze  still  fixed !  heart, 

soul 

Full  of  the  Wonder  ;  drinking  in  its  spell 
Of  purity  and  mystery,  its  poise 
Magical,  weird,  aerial ;  the  ghost 
Of  Thought  draped  white  —  as  if  that  Sultan's  sigh 
Had  lived  in  issuing  from  his  love  and  grief 
Immense,  and  taken  huge  embodiment 
Which  one  rash  word  might  change  from  Tomb  to 

Cloud. 

But  mount  the  first  great  platform  —  sandstone,  red, 
A  thousand  feet  each  way  —  and,  coming  nigh, 
You  shall  perceive  the  sovereignty  of  this 
Which  utmost  loveliness  did  somewhile  hide. 
Now  grows  the  mighty  greatness  of  the  Taj 
Plainer  !  't  is  eighty  feet  of  marble  snow 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  13 

From  the  embroidered  fillet  of  yon  Dome 
To  its  gold  Crownal,  glittering  in  the  sky 
A  hundred  "  yards  of  Akbar  "  from  the  ground. 
Under  that  Saracenic  entry-arch 
These  palms  might  grow,  nor  brush  a  topmost  plume 
Against  the  key-stone.    Hence,  too,  shall  you  see 
As  if  the  Empress'  self  drew  near,  and  near, 
Till  her  blue  veins  showed,  and  her  brows,  and  gems, 
How  opulent  the  unsullied  marble  spreads 
With  ornament,  how  decked  with  precious  work 
Of  scroll  and  spray,  volute  and  chasery, 
'And  grave  texts  written  clear  in  black  and  red 
Inlaid  upon  the  white  ;  not  marring  it 
More  than  those  blue  veins  mar  a  lady's  neck  ; 
More  than  her  pencillings  of  lash  and  brow 
Break  totalness  of  spotless  skin  and  limb. 

Mount,  now,  this  second  stair,  arriving  so 
On  upper  platform,  paved  with  marble  pale, 


14  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Each   way  three  hundred    feet.      Here   stands    the 

Taj! 

This  is  the  snowy  table-land  wherefrom 
Rises  the  House  of  snow,  mountainous,  pure, 
As  any  topmost  peak  of  Himalay  ! 
A  massy  square ;  the  angles  shorn ;  each  face 
Pierced  with  a  vaulted  entrance,  parted  off 
From  too  keen  worship  of  the  Sun  —  who  loves 
Arjamand's  bed  —  from  too  direct  a  ray 
Of  Indian  moonlight,  by  those  panelled  doors 
Of  lace-cut  alabaster.     Nearer  draw 
And  note  their  wondrous  toil — the  white  rock  wrought 
To  exquisite,  entangled,  tracery 
Intricate-patterned  ;  knit,  like  midnight  dreams 
Of  some  geometer,  in  governed  curves 
Cissoid,  parabola,  and  lemniscate, 
Rhombus,  and  rhomboid,  cirque,  trapezium, 
Each  absolute,  if  eye  shall  follow  them ; 
Strong  as  cast  steel,  but  delicate  as  veil 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  15 

Of  filmy  web  from  Dacca's  patient  loom 

Ten  folds  whereof  left  Akbar's  daughter  bare, 

So  that  the  Mogul  cried  :  "  Com'st  thou  unclad  ? " 

Thus,  by  a  hundred  marble  lattices 

Passes  the  daylight  to  their  place  of  rest, 

Shorn  of  its  glare  ;  but  you  —  before  you  pass  — 

Note,  too,  this  diaper-work  of  branch  and  leaf 

On  door-post,  lintel,  and  long  cornices  ; 

And  how  the  black  embroidering  lines  and  texts, 

Strict-marshalled  from  the  Arab  alphabet, 

Serve  the  broad  beauty  of  the  pearly  walls 

For  softening  shadows,  how  the  Finial  — 

Pointing  with  gold  the  moon-round  cupola  — 

Crowns  with  thin  crescent  its  fair-lifted  swell ; 

How  —  near  approached  —  faint  stains  and  wandering 

veins 

Show  on  the  marble  —  azure,  saffron,  rose  — 
So  that  it  hath  not  coldness,  like  to  snow, 
But  in  large  purity  takes,  glad,  the  sun, 


1 6  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

And  answers  him  with  tender  tint  and  glow, 
As  if  the  milky  marble  lived,  indeed. 

You  enter,  reverent :  —  for  a  Queen  is  here, 
And  the  dead  King  who  loved  her ;  and  Death's  self 
Who  ends  all  —  and  begins  all ;  and  Love's  might 
Which  greater  is  than  Death,  and  heeds  him  not. 
White  !  white !  tenderly,  softly,  white  —  around, 
Above,  beneath  —  save  that  the  praying  floor 
Is  laid  in  dark  squares,  and  the  architrave 
Runs  comely  with  adornings  staid,  and  script 
Of  Toghra  text.     See  !  read !  "  His  Majesty, 
Shadow  of  Grod,  Mujtahid  of  the  age. 
Built  this  for  Resting-Place  of  Arjamand" 
And,  elsewhere :  —  "  Jesus  said,  (on  Whom  be  peace  /) 
This  world  a  Bridge  is  ;  pass  thou  over  it, 
But  build  no  House  of  Hope  there."     And,  again, 
The  Fatihah  —  "  In  the  name  of  Crod  most  High 
The  Clement,  the  Compassionate  !  "     Four  tombs 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  I/ 

Of  Princes  and  Princesses  —  kindred  bones  — 

Surround  the  shrine ;  here,  in  the  heart  of  all, 

With  chapels  girdled,  shut  apart  by  screens, 

The  shrine's  self  stands.     White,  delicately  white ! 

White  as  the  c'heek  of  Mumtaz-i-Mahal 

When  Shah  Jahan  let  fall  a  king's  tear  there, — 

White  as  the  breast  her  new  babe  vainly  pressed 

That  ill  day  in  the  camp  at  Burhanpur, 

The  fair  shrine  stands,  guarding  two  Cenotaphs : 

For,  when  the  Trumpet  of  Serafil  blows, 

They  shall  not  rise  herefrom ;  their  happy  dust 

Sleeps    in    one    earth    beneath,    where    two    plain 

stones, 

Hers  in  the  midst,  and  his  —  raised  half  a  span 
(For  lordliness  of  sex  and  Empery) 
But  close  beside  it  —  mark  their  very  graves. 
This  is  but  record  of  them,  two  Death-Chests 
O'er-flowered  upon  white  marble  with  bright  sprays 
And  colored  buds  and  blooms,  posies  of  Death 

2 


1 8  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Softly  enamelled  :  on  the  Emperor's  bier 
The  Kalamdan,  noting  a  Mussulman 
Dead  in  the  Faith ;  on  hers  verses  in  black 
Praising  the  name  of  Allah,  and  her  name, 
And  when  she  lived  and  died  —  of  all  that  time 
The  Glory,  and  the  Cynosure,  and  Pearl. 

All  which  rare  work  is  over-canopied 
With  vaulted  inner  roof  of  milk-white  blocks 
Contracting,  tier  by  tier,  —  till,  far  above, 
A  cap-stone  shuts  the  canopy,  so  high 
Those  letters  of  the  "  Throne  verse  "  cubit-long 
Show  like  the  little  writing  on  a  gem. 
And,  ever,  in  the  womb  of  that  white  roof, 
Echoes  sigh  round  and  round,  low  murmurings, 
Voices  aerial,  by  a  word  evoked  — 
A  foot-fall.     Yet  it  will  not  render  back 
111  noises,  or  a  rude  and  scurrile  sound : 
But  if  some  woman's  lips  and  gentle  breath 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  19 

Utter  a  strain,  if  some  soft  bar  be  played, 

Some  verse  of  hymn,  or  Indian  love-lament, 

Or  chord  of  Seventh,  the  white  walls  listen  close, 

And  take  that  music,  and  say  note  for  note 

Softly  again  ;  and  then  —  echoing  themselves  — 

Reverberate  their  melting  antiphones, 

Low  waves  of  harmony  encountering  waves 

And  rippling  on  the  rounded  milky  shores, 

And  making  wavelets  of  new  harmonies. 

Thus  —  fainter,  fainter  —  higher,  higher  —  sighing 

The  music  dieth  upwards  ;  but  so  sweet, 

So  fine  and  far,  and  lingering  at  the  last, 

You  cannot  tell  when  Silence  comes  :  the  air, 

Peopled  by  hovering  Angels,  still  seems  full 

With  stir  celestial,  with  foldings  down 

Of  pinions ;  and  those  heavenly  parting  notes 

As  tender,  as  if  great  Israfil's  self  — 

Who  hath  the  sweetest  voice  in  all  God's  worlds  — 

Still  whispered  o'er  the  tomb  of  Arjamand  ! 


20  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

The  milk-white  marvel  of  this  inner  shrine 
Js  carved  in  Jali-work  of  tracery  — 
One  panel  of  the  tracery  a  slab 
Five  cubits  every  way,  fretted  and  pierced 
To  marble  gauze  —  so  that  the  sunbeams,  dimmed, 
Steal,  like  gold  twilight,  to  their  mighty  names 
And  show  them  well-nigh  as  if  whispering  them. 
But  yet  a  greater  wonder  !  for  its  sides  — 
Where  the  smooth  stone  spreads  whole  —  holds  inlaid 

wealth 

Of  fair  delicious  fancies,  wreath  and  sprig, 
Blown  tulip,  and  closed  rose,  lilies  and  vines, 
All  done  in  cunning  finished  jewellery 
Of  precious  gems  —  jasper  and  lazulite, 
Sardonyx,  onyx,  blood-stone,  golden-stone, 
Carnelian,  jade,  crystal,  and  chalcedony, 
Turkis,  and  agate ;  and  the  berries  and  fruits 
Heightened  with  coral-points  and  nacre-lights 
(One  single  spray  set  here  with  five-score  stones) 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  21 

So  that  this  place  of  death  is  made  a  bower 
With  beauteous  grace  of  blossoms  overspread  ; 
And  she  who  loved  her  garden,  lieth  now 
Lapped  in  a  garden. 

And  all  this  for  Love  !  - 

The  marbles  were  Mukrani  —  Jeypore's  best  — 
Brought  seventy  koss  in  creaking  cattle-wains  ; 
The  sandstone  Futtehpur's  ;  the  jewels  came 
Over  a  hundred  wastes,  a  thousand  hills, 
By  camel-caravan,  ten  thousand  bales, 
From  Balkh,  Iran,  and  far-off  Khorasan. 
Three  crores  our  Emperor  lavished  on  his  Taj ; 
Two  lakhs  of  workmen  toiled  for  seventeen  years 
Accomplishing  the  Death-Place  of  his  Queen : 
And,  all  for  Love  !     Dying  at  Burhanpur 
She  spake  to  him  :  "  Oh,  Sultan  of  the  Age  ! 
Life  of  my  Soul !  who  lov'dst  me  so  ;  and  knowest 
How  well  I  loved  !  now  pass  I  —  leaving  thee 
Last  babe  and  latest  kiss.     Let  all  the  world 


22  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Know  thy  great  love  and  mine ;  and  build  for  me 
For  Mumtaz  dead  —  thy  Persian  wife  —  a  Tomb 
Which  Earth  shall  marvel  at,  and  all  men  laud, 
Extolling  thee,  and  not  forgetting  me." 
And  Jahan  cried  :  "  Yea  !  but  by  God  the  Truth  ! 
This  thing  shall  be  ;  the  world  shall  know  of  thee  ; 
Thou  shalt  have  such  a  tomb  !  "     Whereon  she  died 
In  child-bed  —  after  fifteen  wedded  years  — 
And  Shah  Jahan  builded  the  Taj  Mahal. 

I  have  two  pictures  of  Queen  Arjamand 
In  the  Persian  manner.     Oh,  a  lady  fair  ! 
Everywhere  beautiful,  and  born  for  love ; 
A  face  to  win  worship  of  hearts,  once  seen. 
No  vain  voluptuous  Odalisque,  with  orbs 
Set  bold  under  low  brow,  but  kind,  but  good, 
More  woman  than  Sultana ;  yet  with  air 
Of  majesty,  as  fitted  great  Princess  ; 
And  in  her  high-bred  nostrils,  habit  of  rule. 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  23 

Complexion  like  the  shell  of  ostrich-egg, 

A  tinted  ivory  ;  hair  midnight  black, 

Braided  in  seven  bright  tresses  ;  dark  brown  eyes 

Splendidly  lambent  under  eyebrows  arched 

Like  edge  of  swallow's  wing  ;  —  love-lighted  eyes 

Curtained  with  long,  fine,  sweeping  eyelashes ; 

Cheeks  hardly  touched  by  palest  rose-color ; 

Chin  delicately  moulded ;  sweetest  mouth 

Flower-soft  and  sensitive,  with  curves  to  make 

The  smile  divine  —  a  mouth  of  rose  and  pearl  — 

Mouth  to  give  orders  to  an  Emperor  : 

The  neck  an  alabaster  pillar  ;  hands 

Perfect  and  small ;  but  stained  upon  the  palms 

With  henna's  russet-red,  the  Persian  way, 

Holding  a  blossom  of  the  pomegranate 

Flower  of  true  Faith  !     Upon  the  proud  smooth  head 

A  Persian  cap  of  state  sewn  thick  with  pearls ; 

Necklet  and  ear-rings  pearl ;  a  ruby  clasps 

The  scarlet  silken  choli  laced  with  gold 


24  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Binding  her  high-girt  breasts  ;  a  shawl  of  blue 
Sits  on  her  comely  shoulders,  stiff  with  gold, 
Letting  a  dagger's  jewelled  handle  peer  ; 
And  cloth  of  gold,  clasping  a  slender  waist, 
Droops  to  the  feet,  slippered  in  silver,  gemmed. 
Arjamand  Banu  Begam  —  such  she  was. 

Why  tell  all  this  ?    That  you  may  know  the  Queen 
They  buried  ;  and  the  beauteous  burying-place 
Where,  that  last  day  at  Agra,  certain  ones 
Sate  in  the  left-hand  Mosque,  surnamed  Juwab 
And  heard,  in  shadow  of  her  sepulchre, 
Sa'di's  deep  Chapter  touching  Love  and  Death. 
For  said  the  Munshi,  "  'T  is  full  moon  to-night ! 
What  if  you  once  more  view  the  Taj  thereby  ?  "  — 
Good  Mirza  Hussein  he,  Muslim  —  and  more  — 
Sufi,  far  seen  in  deep  philosophies, 
Who  knew  grave  secrets  hid  in  subtle  verse 
Of  Hafiz  — underneath  that  merry  veil 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  25 

Of  "  Taverns,"  "  Wine-cups,"  and  the  "  Magian  Boy  "  — 

Knew  Ishk,  and  teachings  of  Tusawwuf,  knew 

Hakikat,  Tariyat  —  as  darkly  shows 

Gulshan-i-Raz,  the  "  Mystic  Rose  Garden ;  " 

A  wise,  and  well-esteemed,  and  courteous  Sage ; 

And  he,  the  Saheb  —  my  life-long  friend  —  replied 

Smilingly :  "  Excellent !  if  you  would  read 

Sa'di's  third  chapter  of  the  Bostan  there 

That '  Ishk '  which  sings  of  Love  —  you  who  can  make 

The  Persian  plain  to  us ;  since,  good  it  were 

To  hear  the  tender  couplets  Mumtaz  heard 

There,  in  her  Pleasaunce,  by  her  Sepulchre  ; 

And  speak  of  Love,  and  what  it  is,  and  how, 

And  whither  it  should  lead  us,  and  God's  will 

Fashioning  Beauty  so  to  seize  and  sway 

By  grace  so  great ;  and  these  strange  hearts  of  men 

To  passion  for  it,  even  to  folly  and  death, 

To  mourn  it  with  such  splendor  sorrowful 

As  yon  white  lordly  anguish  of  the  Taj. 


26  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

Bring  the  scrolls,  Mirza  !  and  the  reading-stool, 
And  Gulbadan,  that  Delhi  girl,  who  sings 
Ghazals  so  well,  and  Dilazar,  her  mate, 
Who  plays  bandoora,  and  knows  dance  and  song. 
Ask  them  to  come  ;  say  there  '11  be  fruits  and  cakes 
With  golden  niohurs ;  and  meet  me  at  the  gate. 
The  Taj  shall  be  Shir&z,  and  we  will  sit 
In  its  green  garden,  underneath  the  moon, 
To  read  the  '  Ishk '  and  hear  the  nightingales 
Make  music  to  the  Rose  in  our  Bostan." 

"  Inshallah  !  "  Mirza  Hussein  said  :  "  Please  God  ! 
This  will  be  so.     Sa'di  hath  much  to  teach, 
And  Gulbadan  shall  bring  her  waiting-girl 
With  lamps  and  bells,  and  summon  Dilazar. 
At  nightfall  we  will  come." 

Thus  it  befell 
Those  five  were  gathered  at  the  Mosque  Juwab 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  2/ 

By  dusk :  —  the  Mirza  ;  gentle  Gulbadan 

The  Persian  singer,  with  the  melting  voice  ; 

Dark  Dilazar,  handsome,  and  bold,  and  skilled 

To  play  for  every  song  and  step ;  the  maid 

Attending  them  ;  and  last,  that  Englishman, 

That  Saheb  I  knew,  lover  of  India. 

Too  much  her  lover  !  for  his  heart  lived  there 

How  far  soever  wandered  thence  his  feet. 

Some  said  —  amongst  the  Buddhists  —  he  had  dwelled 

Of  old  in  Indian  towns,  and  was  re-born 

In  cold,  hard,  unbelieving  Frangestan 

Outcast,  for  ancient  faults  to  expiate  ; 

Some,  that  in  days  of  the  great  mutiny, 

The  dark  Mahratta  maidens  laid  the  spell 

Of  love  and  hidden  teachings  on  his  soul ; 

Some  that  he  dreamed  the  West  and  East  would  meet 

On  some  far  day,  by  some  fresh-opened  path, 

In  sisterly  new  Truths,  and  strove  for  that : 

I  think  he  did  but  find  Wisdom's  wide  stream 


28  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Nearest  the  fountain  clearest,  India's  air 
Softer  and  warmer  than  his  native  skies ; 
And  liked  the  gentle  speech,  the  grave  reserve, 
The  piety  and  quiet  of  the  land, 
Its  old-world  manners,  and  its  reverent  ways, 
And  kind  simplicity  of  Indian  homes, 
And  classic  comeliness  of  Indian  girls 
More  than  his  proper  people,  and  his  tasks. 
He  was  to  blame,  but  he  loved  India. 


OB,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  29 


En  tf;e  0atUm  of  tfre  Caj. 

"  SPREAD,  Khadim ! "  quoth  the  Mirza  "  by  this  wall 
The  mats  and  cushions  ;  trim  the  copper  lamp, 
Set  forth  the  fruit  and  cakes  where  Gulbadan 
May  keep  her  lips  from  too  much  idleness  ; 
Bring  DilazaV s  tamboora !  see  no  snake 
Hath  crept  among  the  carpets  ;  dg  lejao  ! 
To  light  the  kallians  for  the  Saheb  and  me  : 
And  let  none  trouble  us  ! "     The  garden-guard 
Obeyed  with  "  Aclicha  !  achcha  !  "  tied  our  gift 
Into  the  corner  of  his  cloth ;  salaamed, 
And  left  us  to  the  mosque-floor,  and  the  scroll, 
The  tomb,  the  still  trees,  and  the  Indian  night. 


30  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

SAHEB.     Now,  Gulbadan !  —  while  Mirza  Hussein  seeks 
His  starting-place  in  this  old  Persian  book 
Where  our  dead  Poet  keeps -melodious  grave  — 
Sing  some  light  strain  to  tell  the  nightingales 
We  and  the  Roses  watch !     DilazaVs  hand 
Has  strung  tamboora's  strings  to  key  of  C  - 
Three  wires  of  steel  and  one  of  brass,  all  stretched 
Ready  for  every  lovely  lay  you  know  — 
We  will  begin  with  music. 

GULBADAN.  Will  this  please 

The  ear,  I  wonder,  of  my  English  lord  ? 
Dilazar  knows  the  ghazal,  and  it  seems 
Made  for  our  garden,  named  "  Shirin,  Shirin" 

Therewith  she  stooped,  to  touch,  upon  her  feet 
The  peal  of  silver  bells  which  tinkled  there  ; 
Murmuring  the  little  prayer  that  singing  girls 
Make,  before  lifting  voice  or  fingering  string, 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  31 

To  Pir,  or  Guardian-Saint :  —  such  pious  ways 

Have  these  whom  many  scorn  !     And  then  she  sang  : 

[GULBADAN  sings."] 

A  Lover  said  :  "  For  one  touch  of  her  hand 
I  would  give  Balkh,  I  would  give  Samarkand, 
So  sweet  she  is  !  "  the  Bulbul  sang  between 
"  Rose  of  rare  sweetnesses !     Shirin,  Shirin  !  " 

The  Sultan  heard :  "  By  Allah  !  this  is  much  ! 
Two  cities  which  my  sword  gained,  for  one  touch  ! 
How  rich  he  seems !  "     The  Bulbul  sang  between 
"  Rose  of  rich  sweetnesses  !     Shirin,  shirin  !  " 

The  Lover  said  :  "  "When  I  may  kiss  her  feet 
I  am  so  happy  that  all  life  grows  sweet." 
The  Sultan  mused  :  the  Bulbul  sang  between 
"  Rose  of  blown  happiness  !     Shirin,  Shirin  !  " 

"  Oh  !  Rose  "  the  Sultan  said,  "  but,  hast  thou  heard 
This  Lover's  boasting,  and  thine  answering  bird  ?" 


32  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

The  Rose  blushed  while  she  sighed :  "It  is  well  seen ! 
Love  is  enough  !     Shirin,  sliirintarin  !  " 

«  Oh,  Sultan ! "  said  the  Nightingale,  "  I  die 
Pierced  by  the  thorn,  yet,  glad  at  heart  am  I ! 
Sweet,  ever  sweeter,  sweetest,  Love  hath  been, 
Shirin,  shirintar,  and  sliirintarin  !  "  1 

"  Oh,  Rose  and  Nightingale !  "  the  Sultan  said 
"  There  shall  be  raised  a  white  shrine  to  the  Dead  ; 
Where  Love  shall  have  —  in  garden  fair  and  green.  — 
His  endless  song  Shirin,  sliirintarin!" 

Shabash!  we  cried.     By  this  the  Mirza's  nose 
Bestrid  with  glasses,  hung  above  the  script : 
His  finger  with  the  Meccan  turquoise-ring 
Guiding  those  mild  worn  eyes  along  the  page. 
Staid  he  commenced : 

MIRZA.  This  volume  of  our  Lord, 

The  Shaikh  Muslihu-d-din  Shirazi,  named 
Sa'di,  (may  rain  of  Allah's  mercy  fall 

1  Persian  for  "Sweet,  sweeter,  sweetest" 


OB,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  33 

Ever  upon  his  grave !)  the  great  Bostan, 

Openeth  full  nobly,  having  entrance-porch 

Like  to  yon  stately  doorway  of  the  Taj, 

Reared  of  fair  stones,  and  rich  with  pious  verse  — 

Wherein  he  telleth  us  of  heavenly  things, 

And  ways  of  Allah  (be  His  rule  extolled !) 

This  will  I  read,  and,  afterwards  the  Ishk  : 

Bi  nama  e  Khudd,  so  it  preludeth, 

The  Gateway  of  the  Garden  of  our  Lord. 

[The  MIRZA  reads.'] 

IN  NAME  OF  GOD!  Who  maketh  life  to  live; 
Of  G-od  All-wise,  Who  speech  to  tongue  did  give  ; 

Of  G-od  most  Bountiful,  Whose  hand  upholdeth. 
Whose  mercy  doth  iK  offender's  plea  receive  ; 

KIN  a  OF  ALL  KINGS,  at  Whose  wide  Palace-door 
Who  enters  not  finds  majesty  no  more  ; 

3 


34  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

For,  in  that  Court,  the  stiff-necked  Lords  of  realms 
Lie  low  and  crownless  on  His  praying-floor  ! 


He  doth  not  all  at  once  the  sinful  slay, 
Nor  drive  repentant  runagates  away : 

Albeit  an-angered  at  thy  evil  doings 
When  thou  didst  turn  He  did  thy  doom  unsay. 


Yet,  in  the  ocean  of  His  knowing,  we 
And  all  the  worlds  are  bubbles  of  a  sea  ; 

He  spies  a  fault,  and  spares  it.     If  a  son 
Should  vex  his  sire,  hard  would  forgiving  be! 

And  if  a  kinsman  with  his  kin  contends, 

He  spurns  them,  calling  them  no  longer  friends : 

Nay,  and  thy  slave  —  grown  old  and  out  of  use 
The  past  good  service  no  more  recommends : 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  35 

When  those  that  had  thy  heart  seem  no  more  dear 
Better  a  league  away,  than  living  near  ! 

And  if  a  soldier  break  his  banner-oath 
The  Sultan  from  the  roll  his  name  will  tear. 

Sut  He,  the  Equal  Lord  of  low  and  high, 
Doth  to  no  sinful  one  His  grace  deny : 

Ever  He  spreads  His  Adeem 1  o'er  the.  Earth, 
His  Tray  is  full  for  friend  and  enemy. 

Yet,  had  He  willed,  in  way  of  might,  to  slay 
Where  liveth  foe  would  be  alive  this  day  ? 

Above  our  hatreds,  and  unlike  our  loves 
He  ruleth  !    Jinns  and  men  touch  not  His  sway  ! 

His  Angels  order  Man  and  Bird  and  Beast, 
The  Fish,  the  Flies,  the  largest  and  the  least ; 

1  A  tablecloth  of  painted  leather  used  by  grandees. 


36  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

So  plenteous  is  His  bounty  that  the  Ant 
Finds  meat,  the  vast  Simurgh 1  of  Kdf  can  feast! 

Goodness  and  gifts  diffusing ',  feeding  these, 
Because  He  is  creation's  Lord,  and  sees 

All  living  things  ;  and  Solitude  and  State 
Are  His  ;  and  His  Kingships  and  Dignities  ! 

He  sets  on  this  man's  head  a  golden  crown, 
And  drags  to  dust  from  Empire  that  one  down  ; 

On  this  man's  brow  He  binds  good  fortune' s  turban, 
And  round  the  other  wraps  misfortune's  gown. 

He  makes  the  /lames  a  Sower  of  G-ulistan 
For  Ibraheem,2  but  Farun  and  his  clan 

Hurls  down  to  Hell  by  water  ;  and  both  deeds 
Are  good,  being  the  word  of  His  Firmdn. 

1  A  fabulous  bird  which  consumes  forty  bullocks  at  a  meal. 

2  Alluding  to  the  legend  that  when  Abraham  was  cast  into  a  furnace 
by  King  Nimrud,  Allah  changed  the  fire  to  a  garden  of  red  roses. 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  37 

What 's  covered  He  discerns,  and  what  He  will 
He  Himself  covers  of  the  acts  done  ill ; 

But,when,  incensed,  He  bares  the  Blade  of  Judgment, 
The  Angels  veil  their  ears  with  wings,  and  thrill. 

Yet,  when  from  off  that  Table  of  His  grace 
He  gives  what  each  may  carry  to  their  place 

AzdziVs 1  self  draws  nigh :  "  Even  for  me 
A  portion  will  be  portioned  !  "  Shaitan  says. 

Pitying  sad  hearts  as  Maker,  Friend,  and  Guide  ; 
Hearing  all  prayers  ivhich  rise  on  every  side  ; 
With  searching  vision  seeing  times  to  be, 
Acquainted  with  the  shameful  things  we  hide : 

Lord  of  the  Heavens  above,  and  Earth  below, 
Lord  of  the  Last  Account !    Each  neck  must  bow 

1  The  devil. 


38  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

In  deep  submission  to  Him  :  hold  not  up 
Finger  of  blame  at  His  decreeing  —  t hou  ! 


All-good,  All-True,  His  Reed  of  Destiny 
Drew  in  the  womb  the  earliest  lines  of  thee  ; 

He  set  the  Sun  and  Moon  from  East  to  West 
Speeding  ;  and  bent  the  blue  arch  o'er  the  Sea. 


When  Earth,  bewildered,  shook  in  earthquake-throes, 
With  mountain-roots  He  bound  her  borders  close  ; 

Turkis  and  ruby  in  her  rocks  he  stored, 
And  on  her  green  branch  hung  His  crimson  rose. 


He  shapes  dull  seed  to  fair  imaginings  ; 

Who  paints  with  moisture  as  He  painteth  things  ? 

Look  !  from  the  cloud  He  sheds  one  drop  on  ocean, 
And  from  the  Father's  loins  one  drop  He  brings  ;  — 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  39 

And,  out  of  that,  He  forms  a  peerless  pearl,1 
And,  out  of  this,  a  cypress  boy  or  girl ; 

Utterly  wotting  all  their  innermosts, 
For  all  to  Him  is  visible  !     Uncurl 

Your  cold  coils,  Snakes  !    Creep  forth,  ye  thrifty  Ants  ! 
Handless  and  strengthless  He  provides  your  wants 

Who  from  the  "  Is  not "  planned  the  "  Is  to  be" 
And  Life  in  non-existent  void  implants. 

Again,  He  bids  the  embodied  disappear, 

And  —  shrouding  it  —  to  the  Assembly-place  doth  bear 

The  Maidan  of  His  judgment.     Ah,  we  know 
His  Majesty  and  Might,  but  win  not  near 

The  secret  of  His  mandates  !  nowise  reach 
What  lies  beyond  all  wit  and  sight  and  speech  ! 


1  It  was  a  Persian  belief  that  pearls  were  generated  from  rain-drops 
enclosed  in  sea-shells. 


40  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

On  that  lone  Peak  perches  no  bird  of  Fancy, 
No  hand  to  touch  the  coasts  of  Him  can  reach  ! 

A  thousand  ships  have  foundered  here  before, 
So  lost,  no  chip  of  them  came  back  to  shore : 

I,  too,  on  those  waves  wandered  —  many  a  night! 
Till  Terror  plucked  my  sleeve,  crying :  "  No  more  ! 

"  To  land  !  tit  horizon  of  God's  knowledge  rings 
Thee  and  the  worlds!  think'st  thou  that  King  of  Kings 

To  compass  by  conjecture  ?  thou,  a  point ! 
When  Wisdom1  s  self  wists  not  His  hidden  things  ?  " 

Hadst  thou  a  tongue  of  wonder  like  Subhdn l 
It  could  not  tell  one  Alif  of  the  plan  : 

Hash  horsemen  on  this  road  have  spurred  their 

coursers, 
At  La  ahs&  2  they  stopped,  and  sought  the  Khdn  !  8 

1  A  very  famous  Arab  poet  and  rhetorician. 

2  Meaning  "  I  have  not  (adequately)  praised  Thee ; "  a  verse  of  the 
Koran. 

8  The  inn. 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  41 

Since  ivays  there  be  which  not  the  stoutest  ride : 
Dark  defiles  where  men  fling  their  shields  aside  : 

The  Angels  shut  the  gateway  of  returning 
On  whomso  such  far  journey  doth  betide! 

Who  sits  at  banquet  of  such  mystery 

Must  quaff  a  cup  of  senselessness.     Oh,  Sea 

Of  Fear  never  yet  rounded  !    Landless  ocean  ! 
Wise  pilots  will  not  venture  upon  thee  ! 

The  long-winged  hawk  shall  find  his  eyelids  sewn  ! 
The  eagle,  who  with  open  orbs  had  flown, 

His  proud  plumes  singed.    To  treasures  of  Karun 
There  was  a  path  of  going  —  not  return  ! 

Yet,  in  Grod's  wilderness  if  thou  wilt  be 
A  traveller,  untie  thy  cameVs  knee  ! 

Dream  not  of  home  and  friends  !  Thyself  and  Thou, 
Mirror  and  face  —  that 's  all  the  company  ! 


42  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Haply  the  fragrance  of  Heaven's  hidden  Rose 

Hath  maddened  thee  with  love  ;  thou  art  of  those 

Who  tread  the  pathway  of  the  Compact 1  —  searchers 
Waiting  to  hear  the  Voice.     Truth  will  disclose 

The  Light  —  will  rend  the  Veil  of  Flesh  aside  ; 
Except  His  glory  nothing  else  shall  hide  ! 

Nothing  !  but  wonderment  must  seize  thy  bridle. 
Crying  to  Reason's  horseman  "  No  more  ride  !  " 

SAHEB.     Noble  !  Janab-i-Mirza  !     Yet,  methinks, 
There  follow  two  more  couplets  —  which  begin 
Dar  in  bahr,  honoring  jour  Prophet  ? 

MIRZA.  Yes ! 

I  did  not  wish  you  should  hold  Sa'di  stern 
To  "  people  of  the  book  "  other  than  ours  ; 
Yet,  of  a  truth,  he  ends  the  "  Gateway  "  thus  - 

1  Alluding  to  the  story  that,  at  the  creation  of  living  things,  Allah 
asked  them  aloud :  "  Am  I  not  your  God  ?  "  to  which  all  the  elect  re- 
plied :  "  Yea,  Lord,"  thereby  binding  themselves  forever  to  Him. 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  43 

\TTie,  MIRZA  reads.~\ 

Over  this  Deep  of  Grod  only  one  came, 
Muhammad  !    If  men  follow  not  the  same 

Lost  are  they  !     Those  that  turn  from  following 
Wander  full  far,  and  win  distress  and  shame. 

If,  choosing  other  ways,  Man  thinks  to  gain, 
He  shall  not  to  his  journey's  end  attain. 

iSa'di,  speak  truth  !  the  Path  of  Purity 
Only  behind  Grod's  Chosen  opens  plain ! 

SAHEB.     Be  sorry  for  us,  Gulbadan  !  and  you, 
Light-hearted  Dilazar !     We  shall  not  climb  — 
If  this  be  sooth  —  into  sweet  Paradise, 
Nor  pluck  the  Tooba-tree,  whose  fair  fruit  bends 
Glad  to  the  hand ;  nor  taste  celestial  wine 
Sealed  with  the  musk  ;  nor  ever  see  you  wave 
Green  'kerchiefs  to  us,  'midst  those  Heavenly  ones  — 


44  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Since  Huris  you  will  be,  with  black-pearl  eyes, 

Lulu-1-maknun !  — 
DILAZAR.  Did  not  the  Mirza  read 

Az&zil's  self  comes  to  the  Tray  of  God 

And  finds  a  portion  ? 
GULBADAN.  Oh,  no  need  to  leave 

Our  Saheb  to  Shaitan  for  his  company ! 

There  will  be  kind  souls  in  Jehannum,  Dear ! 

When  I  tied  on  the  bells  a  Mollah  said 

There  was  no  paradise  for  dancing-girls  ; 

But  one,  well  learned  too,  laid  gentle  hand 

Upon  his  skirt,  and  answered :  "  Knowest  thou  this  ? 

Hast  thou,  my  Brother !  keys  of  Heaven  and  Hell, 

"When  the  great  Book  saith  (Sura  Fourth  it  was  !)  : 

1  Allah  doth  justify  whomso  He  will ; 

None  shall  be  wronged  one  date-stone  '  ?  "    Who  can 
tell? 

We  know  not ! 
DILAZAR.  True,  we  know  not !  yet 't  is  sad 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  45 

The  Saheb  should  live  a  Kafir,  loving  so 
Us  and  our  people. 

GULBADAN.  Well!  last  year,  in  the  Rains, 

Our  taifah  to  Calcutta  went,  and  I 
Fell  sick  of  country  fever.  —  Dilazar  ! 
You  cannot  think  how  the  blood  runs  all  flame, 
How  bad  the  beating  at  the  temples  is, 
And  what  fierce  thirst !     But,  when  I  lay  at  worst, 
There  came  an  English  Hakimi  to  me  — 
A  woman  —  wise,  oh,  as  no  Mollah  is, 
With  pale  face  like  the  Saheb's,  and  eyes  more  blue 
Than  Mirza  Hussein's  ring-stone.     Never  a  word 
Questioned  she  of  my  faith,  nor  of  my  trade, 
But  —  as  we  had  been  sisters  of  one  womb, 
Not  fearing  my  wild  speech,  not  hating  me, 
Foul,  miserable,  ill-ordered  —  bathed  my  brow 
With  sweet  refreshing  waters  ;  cooled  my  mouth 
With  sherbets  delicately  mixed  ;  combed  smooth 
My  tangled  hair,  and  sponged  my  burning  skin 


46  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

"With  touch  more  soft  than  ever  lover  had ; 

Then  changed  my  cloth,  and  drew  the  chuddar  straight, 

Gave  me  some  sovereign  drug,  and  kissing  me, 

Said,  "  You  will  sleep,  and  will  be  well  again 

In  time  to  dance,  my  Sister  !  "     And  I  slept, 

Dreaming  so  placidly  of  winds  that  blew 

Wave-cold  over  the  sea,  fanning  my  face  ; 

Of  streams  that  ran  snow-chill  over  my  feet, 

Calming  my  blood  ;  —  but,  when  I  woke,  and  laughed 

For  comfort  of  glad  life  made  new  again, 

There  were  my  Hakimi's  kind  eyes  once  more 

Beaming,  while  't  was  her  white  hands  washed  my  feet, 

And  sprinkled  fragrant  essence  on  my  brow 

Rose-breathed !  and,  will  you  think  I  tell  you  truth, 

Oh,  Dilaz&r !  oh,  Mirza  ?  at  her  side, — 

Come  there  to  see  us  in  the  Hospital  — 

The  high  Lord  Viceroy's  wife,  with  gentle  looks 

And  quiet  voice,  commanding  all  around ; 

Such  a  great  "  Mem-Saheb  "  that  I  drew  my  sheet 


OR,  THE  BOOK   OF  LOVE.  47 

Lest  she  should  see  me  and  think  scorn  of  me  — 
Lady  Duffreen,  the  mighty  Queen's  Vice-queen  ! 
Think,  Dilazar !  and  I  a  singing-girl !  — 
But,  when  I  heard  her  speak  soft  Urdu  words, 
Like  a  white  angel  in  her  pity  of  us, 
No  whit  afraid  of  sitla,  or  of  tap 
Fever  or  pest !  there,  for  the  love  of  us, 
Pacing  among  the  charpoys  of  the  ward, 
Followed  by  all  the  eyes  with  praise  and  thanks, 
I  turned  my  chuddar  back  to  gaze  and  gaze  : 
And  then  I  said  —  I  think  she  heard  me  say, 
My  mkimi  —  «  Ah,  Mollah !  if  there  be 
No  place  in  Paradise  for  Nautchenees, 
We  shall  meet  these,  and  that  will  not  be  Hell ! " 

DILAZAR.     Dear  Gulbadan !  how  sinful,  if  they  knew ! 
You  should  have  whispered  it,  lest  Kafirs  heard 
A  Mussulmani  say  so  ! 

SAHEB.  I  rejoice 

You  saw  our  good  and  dear  Vice-queen,  who  loves 


48  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Her  Indian  sisters,  and  makes  help  for  them. 
But  this  is  not  that  Sa'di  we  should  read. 
MIRZA.    I  deem  not  so !  Lord  Sa'di  speaks  of  Faith 
At  outsetting,  since  Shariyat  comes  first 
In  Sufic  lore,  where  forms  and  creeds  are  all ; 
Tarikat  next,  when  forms  and  creeds  recede, 
And  "  the  Path  "  mounteth  to  Hakikat  free, 
The  Stage  of  Truth,  past  doctrines  and  past  names, 
And  thence  to  Ma'arifat,  the  Stage  Divine 
"Where  the  Soul  dwells  in  light  unspeakable  ; 
Nor  sees  alone  Jaldl,  the  Glory  of  God, 
But  Jamdl  —  Beauty,  Grace,  and  Joy  of  God, 
For  which  dear  splendors  we  desire  Him  most, 
Not  for  His  Terrors,  nor  His  Majesties ! 
And  this  doth  Sa'di  inculcate  in  verse. 
Nay,  ye  began  him  better  than  ye  knew, 
Speaking  large  charities,  and  hopes  for  all : 
Since  —  writes  he  not  ?  —  Allah  hath  made  us  all 
Angels,  and  Men, and  Jinns ;  Birds,  Beasts,  and  Fish ; 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF  LOVE.  49 

And  all  are  pictures  from  His  hand ;  are  cups 
Filled  with  His  wine  ;  are  steps  to  bring  to  Him  ; 
Are  whispers  of  the  wonders  of  His  Love  ! 
Hear  now  Khush-wakt — how  God's  true  lovers  live : 


\Tke  MIRZA  begins  the  ISHK.] 

FAIR  G  0  THE  DA  YSof  them  that  drink  Love's  wine 
Mighty  and  maddening!     'Tis  a  bliss  divine; 
Whether  they  suffer  Separation' 's  anguish 
Or  taste  Propinquity's  sweet  medicine  ! 

Earths  kingdoms  shunning,  these  true  Sultans  be  ! 
Rags  of  the  Prison  wearing  these  pass  free 

In  changeless  royal  robes  invisible. 
For  union's  sake  enduring  poverty. 

Time  after  time  is  shed  into  their  cup 
The  bitter  juice  of  pain  —  they  drink  it  up, 

4 


50  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

And  —  if  they  find  it  sharp  —  '£  is  but  to  draw 
Hard  breath  and  wait,  till  better  comes  to  sup. 

Hides  not  the  purple  pleasure  of  the  grape 
Head-sickness  underneath  it  ?     Can  one  'scape 

Wounds  in  the  green  Rose-garden,  when  no  Rose 
But  arms  with  thorns  her  beauty  ?    So,  they  drape 

Their  souls  in  dress  of  Patience  !    Patiently 
Waiting  for  Love  is  well-at-ease  to  be! 

Tani  az  dast-i-dost,  —  oh,  bitterness 
Comes  sugared,  when  a  dear  hand  gives  it  thee  ! 

They  see  not  —  seek  not  —  any  drawing  back  ; 
Caught  in  this  snare  no  captive  asks  to  slack 

His  welcome   chains!     Rich  mendicants,  veiled 

monarch* 
They  know  Heaven's  Road,  though  ye  note  not  their  track! 


OB,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  51 

Intoxicate  with  draughts  of  Heavenly  love 
They  drink  it  deeper,  while  their  smiles  reprove 

Our  sober  blame.   Ah,  have  ye  marked  how  lightly, 
Drunken  with  desert-flowers,  the  camels  move  ? 

How  shall  men  follow  in  the  path  they  tread? 
It  runs  in  darkness  like  the  crystal  shed 

By  Life's  hid  River :  like  the  Holy  Houses 
Outside  all 's  blank,  within  is  goodlihead  I 

Moth-like  they  flutter  back  into  the  ray 
Which  scorched  them  ;  silk-worm-like  they  spin  away 
This  World's  thread  for  the  next  World.     Naught 

so  fair 
As  to  seem  fair  enough!    If  one  should  say, 

Clasping  his  Heart's  Delight,  "  Now,  where  is  she  ?  " 
So  are  these  always  seeking  !     On  the  sea 

They  search  for  boundlessness;  drinking  Nile  River 
They  ask,  with  parched  lips,  "  When  will  water  be  ?  " 


52  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Stifis  !    Heaven  's  chosen  these  !     Oh,  Adam's  Son  ! 
Tliat  lov'st  another  like  thine  own  self —  one 

Built  of  the  water  and  the  clay  —  she  also 
Ravishes  comfort  from  thee;  all  undone 

Thou  liest  awake,  for  sake  of  mole  on  cheek, 
Brain-sick,  enamoured  !    And  when  eyelids  seek 

To  drop  sleep's  curtain,  all  thy  dreams  are  bound 
In  thought  of  her  ;  of  her  thy  lips  still  speak! 

Beneath  her  feet,  fond  Votary  !  thou  dost  lay 
Thy  head  submissive,  in  such  lowly  way 

As  if  this  Earth  with  all  it  holds  were  nothing, 
And  Joy  bloomed  only  by  her  kindling  ray. 

Thy  gold  shows  dim  except  she  sees  it  gleam, 
Otherwise  gold  and  dust  the  same  things  seem : 

Save  for  her  kiss,  thou  sayst,  how  feel  desire? 
That  such  another  breathes  thou  wilt  not  deem. 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  53 

By  day  't  is  "  Apple  of  my  eye  !  "  by  night  — 
When  eyes  are  closed  —  'tis  "  Rest,  thou  dear  Delight! 
Sole   in  this   heart ! "     No  wandering  wish,  for 

shame  ! 
No  power,  no  will  to  win  one  hour's  respite  ! 

If  she  should  crave  thy  life,  to  take  away, 
Thy  life  upon  her  hand  thou  'It  haste  to  lay  ! 

If  she  should  bare  a  sharp  blade  for  thy  neck, 
Joyously  wouldst  thou  kneel  that  she  might  slay. 

Lovers  !  whose  love  is  fed  on  eyes'  desire, 
If  this  can  so  content,  control,  inspire, 

Marvel  ye  that  the  wayfarers  towards  G-od 
Plunge  in  Truth's  ocean,  burn  with  Frenzy's  fire  ? 

Passionate  for  the  Unseen,  as  never  none 
Passioned  for  Seen;  remembering  —  every  one  — 

Day-tide  and  night-tide,  only  Him,  as  never 
Lover  remembered  mistress  under  Sun  I 


54  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

For  glee  of  Crod  knowing  no  want  or  will ; 
World-heedless  ;  seeing  —  whatever  vintage  fill 

EartKs  jewelled  Cup  —  the  Cup-bearer  so  splendid 
That,  all  for  ecstasy,  Ifis  wine  they  spill. f 

Nor  shall  ye  ever  make  them  whole  again  ; 
Nor  help  with  simples,  knowing  not  their  pain  : 

They  hear  you  not ;  they  only  hear  their  Maker 
Say,  "  Am  I  not  your  G-od?"  piercing  and  plain, 

For  ever  and  for  ever  —  as  at  first ; 

And  clamorous  answers  from  their  being  burst 

"  Yea,Lord!  yea,blessedLord!"  a  crowd  of  Lovers 

Outwardly  humble,  of  the  proud  accurst, 

But  noble  inwardly  !    Feet  deep  in  mire, 
But  faces  bright,  eyes  lit  with  astral  fire  : 

Plucking  the   mountains  from   their  roots  with 

praying, 
Piling  great  cities  high  with  strong  desire  ! 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  55 

Wind-like  they  move  at  speed  invisible  ; 
Stone-like  they  testify,  yet  nothing  tell; 

Weeping  by  daylight,  so  that  wild  tears  wash 
Sleep's  soormafrom  their  lids!    And  night  knows  well 

How  these  have  urged  the  foundered  Steed  of  Flesh 
From  watch  to  watch  with  meditations.     Fresh 

Breaks  the  gold-dappled  Dawn  to  find  them  sighing 
"  No  rest  to  us  !  "  — for  borne  along  in  mesh 

Of  fiery  phantasy  they  take  no  heed 
If  day  or  night  be ;  notice  not,  indeed, 

Whether  sun  shines,  or  stars  or  planets  glitter : 
So  lost  in  Life  they  have  forgot  life's  need  ; 

So  deep  enamoured  of  the  Picture-Maker 

Who  paints  the  face  of  Nature,  that  they  take  her 

As  •  naught  —  despite   her  gladness,  wealth,  and 

beauty  — 
And  for  His  perfect  sake  wholly  forsake  her. 


56  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE    GARDEN; 

Yea  !  for  they  will  not  give  to  Forms  their  mind  ; 
And  if  a  fool  gives,  he  is  rash  and  blind! 

Who  scorns  thisfor-the  next  world ',  that  man  tasteth 
True  wine  of  Oneness  —  he  of  human  kind  ! 

SAHEB.    Ah !  but  how  far  we  seem  from  earth  herein  ! 
Above  your  topmost  notes,  fair  Gulbadan, 
Even  if  you  sang  on  terrace  of  the  Taj ; 
Beyond  Dilazar's  reach,  though  she  should  dance 
A-tiptoe  in  her  little  tinselled  shoes, 
And  hold  tamboora  up  at  fingers'  ends  ! 
Can  men,  indeed,  live  on  such  cloudy  food  ? 
Must  we  not  love  the  form,  the  grace  we  see, 
The  wine  poured  forth,  the  picture  painted  us? 
Bring  Sa'di  down,  Mirza  !  to  Arjamand, 
And  flesh,  and  blood,  and  earth,  —  if  that  may  be  ! 

MIRZA.     Sir.!  when  you  came,  a  second  time,  to  see 
This  Taj,  you  mounted  on  the  outer  gate 
Writ  with  stern  Scriptures :  and  from  highest  roof 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF   LOVE.  57 

Marked  the  full  greatness  of  the  Tomb,  far-off, 
How  its  pale  dome  hung  beauteous  in  the  sky, 
And  how  its  white  feet  in  these  flowers  were  set, 
Linking  the  Heaven  and  Earth  in  harmonies. 
So  is  it  here  !     Sa'di  shows  love  of  Heaven 
Linked  with  the'  Earthly  love,  fulfilling  it  : 
And  how  that  beauty  is  of  God  at  last  ! 
Oh,  you  of  Dihli  !  'mid  your  lightsome  lays 
Know  you  a  graver  string-verse,  can  you  sing 
iShukur-i-Dost  —  the  "  Praises  of  the  Friend  "  ? 
GULBADAN.    Say  me  the  line,  Sir  !  Ah,  yes  !  Dil-i-man  ! 

[She  sings  to  a  solemn  air,  DILAZAK  striking  only  the 
brass 


My  heart  I  cannot  fitly  raise  ; 

I  know  no  language  for  His  praise  ! 

He  gave  me  every  hair  that  grows  ; 
How  thank  Him,  then,  for  each  of  those  ? 

How  bless  enough,  when  I  must  bless 
The  grace  to  bless  such  blessedness  ? 


58  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Was  it  thy  dam,  or  was  it  He 
Made  the  soft  womb  to  shelter  thee  ? 

And  when  they  cut  the  cord^prepared 
Tender  true  arms  to  be  thy  guard  ? 

Soft  bosoms,  milkful,  to  arise 

Like  fountains  filled  from  Paradise  ? 

The  mother,  like  a  tree,  to  stand 
Fruit  on  the  branch,  babe  in  the  hand  ? 

Life-giving  and  life-cherishing, 

Feeding  thy  flesh  from  Love's  own  spring  ? 

From  breasts  and  veins  that  richly  ranged 
With  blood  which  Love  to  nectar  changed. 

Whose  was  that  wisdom  ?  whose  that  plan  ? 
Whose  that  sweet  stratagem  ?  oh,  Man ! 

And  this  new  neck  of  Mistress  dear, 
Didst  thou  devise,  or  find  it  here  ? 


OB,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  59 

Did  she  and  thou  invent  those  eyes 
Shedding  such  lustre,  that  surprise 

Of  Love  caught  up  thy  soul  again, 
Re-mounting  on  thy  heart  to  reign  ? 

But,  thinkest  thou  He  hath  not  thrifts 
Of  giving  better  than  these  gifts  ? 

Deem'st  thou  He  is  not  more  to  love 
Than  loveliest  things  below,  above  ? 

No  «  He  "  !  —  no  "  She  "  !  but  Twain  !  but  All ! 
The  Best,  Last,  Most,  which  can  befall. 

Ah  !  if  that  Mother's  lap  was  warm 
Wilt  thou  not  trust  th'  Eternal  Arm  ? 

Ah  !  if  the  lip  beloved  was  bliss 
"Wilt  thou  not  woo  celestial  kiss  ? 

Man !  if  stars  gleam  upon  thy  clay, 
Wilt  thou  not  sleep  and  wait  His  day  ? 


60  WITH   SA'DI   IN  THE   GARDEN; 

SAHEB.     What !  can  you  dance  to  Lola  ruTcshar,  girl ! 
Or  Shukar  lab,  and  make  great  eyes  for  gain, 
Knowing  such  strains  ? 

DILAZAR.  Huzoor !  we  only  are 

Little  green  parrots,  taught  to  speak  our  best : 
You  pay  us  with  some  sugar-cane,  —  and  go, 
Forgetting  if  our  necks  were  red  or  gold, 
Or  if  we  ever  lived. 

GULBADAN.  And,  Saheb !  bethink  ! 

There  was  a  great  Lord  in  a  garden  found 
A  broken  vase  which  smelt  of  nard  and  musk 
Full  sweet  —  and,  when  he  asked  "  Bu  chist  ?  "  — 

Art  thou 

She  whom  the  bulbul  lauds  for  odorousness  ? 
The  potsherd  meekly  spake :  "  Sir,  no  such  thing  ! 
No  Rose  am  I,  but  with  the  Rose  I  dwelled  ! " 
So  is  it  with  thy  servants ! 

SAHEB.  Sisters,  nay ! 

For  Sa'di  sings  ye  too  are  dear  to  God  : 
But,  Mirza  !  make  us  hear  what  Sa'di  says  : 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF   LOVE.  6 1 

MIRZA.     Now  will  he  tell  how  even  Earthly  Love 
Hath  its  persistence  ;  and  the  might  of  that 
To  show  self  naught,  leading  the  Spirit  on 
That  it  may  lose  itself,  and  gain  by  loss  : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.'] 

Once  on  a  time,  I  heard,  a  Beggar's  son 
Loved  —  heart  and  soul  —  a  Palace-nurtured  one  ; 
Nursed  the  vain  passion,  till  his  wistful  fancy 
Plunged  its  teeth  daily  to  Desire's  lone. 

Rooted  he  stood,  like  milestone,  on  the  plain 
Where  she  should  pass  ;  and,  when  she  came  again, 

The  Fil  's  not  closer  to  the  ivory  Asp  1 
On  play-board,  than  to  her  that  love-lorn  swain  ! 

For  her  his  blood  to  his  pale  cheek  went  leaping  ; 
Foot-fast  in  mire  of  grief ,  he  tarried  weeping  : 

The  Sultan's  guards,  observing  this  behavior, 
Grave  warning :  "  Be  not  found  in  these  parts,  creeping  /" 
1  The  "  elephant "  and  "  horse,"  two  pieces  of  the  Persian  chess-table. 


62  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Awhile  he  fled  ;  then,  memory  of  her  face 
Returned  resistless  !    In  the  self-same  place 

Anew  Tie  cam'ped,  beside  her  high  pavilion. 
A  palace  servant  brake  his  head :  "  Disgrace 

Be  on  thee  !  "  cried  he,  "  Spake  we  not,  no  more 
Trouble  us  here  ?  "     Yet,  still,  as  theretofore, 

Patience  and  Rest  remained  not ;  that  fair  visage 
Kept  Rest  and  Patience  from  his  spirit's  door. 

As  flies  are  brushed  from  sugar,  so  they  drove 
This  Lover  off;  and,  still  at  speed,  for  love, 

As  flies  come  back  to  sugar  sate  he  steadfast, 
Seeding  no  blows.     Him  roundly  to  reprove 

"  Ai  Shukh !     Dew&ni-rang  ! "  one  spake  in  scorn, 
"  Insolent  Madman  !  truly  thou  hast  borne 

Too  patiently  plain  speech  of  stones  and  staves  !  " 
He  said,  "  This  maketh  me  no  whit  forlorn  ! 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  63 

"  This  cometh  from  the  tyranny  of  one 

Whose  will  is  sweet !     With  Lovers  surely  none 

Shall  dare  complain  of  what  Love's  hand  inflicteth; 
I  breathe  true  breath  of  friendliness  —  alone, 

"  If  that  must  be  !  —  but ,  whether  holdeth  she 
This  faithful  heart  her  friend  or  enemy. 

Comfort  is  nowhere  else,  far  from  her  presence 
Patience  hath  never  possibility  ! 

"  Too  full  of  love  my  soul  is  to  find  place 
For  fear  or  anger.     Dwell  I  here  in  grace 

Or  fly  with  foot  of  shame,  here  must  heart  linger  ; 
Say  thou  not  therefore  i  Turn  aside  thy  face  ! ' 

" '  Quit  the  King's  door  ! '     No  !  not  if  they,  surround 
My  neck  with  cords,  as  peg  of  tent  is  bound  ; 

No  !  the  burned  moth  is  happier  in  the  lantern 
Than  live,  and  in  the  dark  !  "  —  The  attendant  found 


64  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

This  answer :  "  What  if  they  shall  beat  thee  black  ?  " 
The  Lover  said  :  "  Sail-like  I  will  roll  back 

At  her  dear  foot!  "   Quoth  he  "  But  if  they  slay  thee 
With  sharp  of  sword  f  "   The  Lover  said :  "  Grood  lack! 

"  Then  will  I  diey  not  grudging  !     Unto  me 
If  nigh  my  neck  gold  chain  or  steel  axe  be 

Full  little  knowledge  is  !  but  this  is  certain. 
Idle  it  were  to  chide  my  ecstasy : 

"  Love  finds  no  measure  !    If  mine  eyes  were  grown 
Clouded  with  tears  of  woe  as  Yakuts  own 

Still  would  I  trust  for  sight  of  Yusuf  ! l     Lovers 
Must  not  for  every  little  let  make  moan  !  " 

DILAZAR.     I  could  not  love  so  ! 

SAHEB.  Not  if  you  were  loved  ? 

1  The  legend  is  that  the  eyes  of  Jacob  became  blind  with  weeping 
for  Joseph. 


OR,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  65 

DILAZAR.     Afrin  ! l  I  might  feel  pity  then,  perchance ; 
And  more,  if  —  humble  to  the  dust  for  me  — 
He  had  been  bolder  with  those  Palace-guards, 
Stabbed  the  King's  Muhtasib,  and  then  sunk  dead  — 
Covered  with  loving  wounds,  like  rose-buds  blown  — 
Or  near  to  die,  at  lattice  of  my  stairs : 
Truly,  if  he  were  young  and  fair,  with  this 
I  might  have  softened,  stealing  down  unveiled, 
And  kissing  him  to  health  with  honeyed  verse. 

SAHEB.     Would  verse  do  that  ? 

DILAZAR.  "Why  !  Mirza  Hussein  knows 

How  in  Lord  Sa'di's  time  one  little  verse 
Restored  a  dying  Lover.     He  was  fall'n 
In  death-trance  at  the  door-way  of  his  Love, 
A  princess  proud  and  fair  ;  but,  as  he  sank, 
He  spake  to  such  as  gathered,  lending  help, 
Three  verses  and  one  word  —  and  they  were  these  : 


1  A  Persian  exclamation   of  pleasure  or  admiration,  meaning 
"  Create  ! "  i.  e.,  "  Oh,  Allah,  make  more  like  it ! " 


66  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

"  Bring  my  Life,  my  Mistress,  here  ! 
Let  her  see  me  on  my  bier  ! 

If  she  deign  my  lips  to  kiss 
I 1 

"  I  "  —  then  he  swooned  and  spake  no  further  thing. 

But  Sa'di,  passing,  questioned  of  the  youth 

Who  lay  so  pale  and  still :  —  and  when  they  told 

How  at  that  fourth  line  Silence  stopped  his  tongue. 

And  when  they  said  his  sad  words  o'er  again, 

Sa'di  fulfilled  them,  adding  to  the  "  I  "  - 

"  Shall  rise  !  have  ye  no  fear  !  "  and  so  they  brought 

That  Lady,  and  recited  what  had  been  : 

Whereat,  with  pearls  of  pity  on  the  leaves 

Of  those  red  roses  blushing  in  her  cheek, 

Full  tenderly  she  stooped  —  shame  quite  ashamed  — 

1  The  Persian  lines  were  — 

« 

Janan-i-man  baman  biyarid 
In  muclah  tanam  bado  miyarid 
Agar  boosa  zanad  bar  in  labanam 

Ta , 

(Sa'di  filled  in:  zindah  shavara  !  ajab  madarid.) 


OR,    THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  67 

And  kissed  his  mouth  ;  and  then  the  dead  man  rose, 
Won  back  to  happy  days  by  lips  and  verse  : 
Much  virtue  lives  there  in  a  kiss  and  verse ! 
MIRZA.     Yes !  it  so  happened,  Dilaz&r  ;  but  here 
Our  Lover  who  is  shadow  of  the  Soul, 
Straining  for  Beauty  out  of  sight  and  reach, 
For  Love  by  perils  girt,  Joy  walled  by  griefs, 
Cometh  not  nearer  than  words  far  away 
And  worship  strong  as  death.     Attend  again  ! 

[The  MIRZA  reads.~\ 

It  chanced  one  day  he  kissed  her  stirrup-string  ; 
Incensed,  she  flung  aside  !     He  said  this  thing , 

Low  sighing :  "  Nay  !  but  do  not  draw  thy  bridle 
The  Sultan's  self  scorns  no  man  worshipping. 

"  lam  not  I!     'Tis  thou  art  land  thou  ! 
My  Being  is  thy  Being  !     Seeing  thee  now 


68  WITH   SA'DI  IX  THE   GARDEN; 

What  I  was  I  forgot !    No  more  reproach  me, 
Blood  of  my  veins,  and  eyebrows  of  my  broiv  I 

"  I  touched  thy  stirrup  with  that  hardihood 
Taking  no  count  of  self  !    'Tis  understood, 

Naming  thy  sweet  name  blots  my  sad  name  out! 
What  thou  wouldst  be  and  have,  is  what  I  would! 

"  If  thou  wilt  slay,  the  anger  of  thine  eye 
Sends  death  enough!    No  need,  if  I  must  die, 

To  strike  !     Set  fire  unto  this  bending  reed, 
And  pass  I    All  will  be  ashes  by  and  by  !  " 

SAHEB.     Whither  would  Sa'di  lead  us,  singing  this  ? 

MIRZA.     Sarkar  !  the  Poet  leads  us  —  as  I  think  — 
To  this  chief  wisdom  :  that  Love  is  not  Love 
Except  it  tear  forth  Self-love  from  the  breast, 
And  so  absorb  the  Lover  in  that  frame 
Of  imaged  fairness,  where  he  finds  soul's  lamp 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF  LOVE.  69 

So  draw,  and  daze,  and  tangle  him  with  beams 
(Ever  so  darkly  radiating  from  God), 
Beams  all  for  him  —  albeit  dull  and  dim  — 
That  he  shall  quite  forget  what  else  was  dear, 
Wealth,  comfort,  peacej  pleasure  —  nay,  life  itself  — 
To  live  and  die  in  light  of  those  bright  eyes, 
In  reach  of  those  sole  arms,  in  blissful  range 
Of  music  echoing  from  that  one  sweet  mouth. 

DILAZAR.     Oh,  Mirza  !  may  I  be  your  sacrifice  ! 
But  in  what  market  does  one  buy  such  love  ? 

MIRZA.     In  all  the  markets,  Daughter !  where  they  sell 
Black  snow,  cold  fire,  dry  water,  and  such  goods  ; 
For  this  thing  cometh  not  of  golden  gifts, 
Nor  marriage-brokers,  nor  with  bartered  hearts, 
But  is  by  Kismat  and  the  grace  of  God, 
And  bringeth  where  He  will. 

SAHEB.  And,  if  He  will 

That  it  bring  far  ? 

MIIJZA.  Then  may  the  Lover  learn 


70  WITH   SA'DI   IX   THE   GARDEN; 

Infinite  things  beyond  that  thing  he  sought : 

For  Beauty  is  a  perfectness  of  Allah, 

Showing  Himself  ;  and  the  Soul  —  seeing  this 

By  vision  of  the  senses,  so  devised 

That  flesh  must  thrill,  delighted  blood  must  course, 

Heart  bound  with  worship,  and  glad  eyes  grow  dim 

Beholding  Beauty  —  Soul,  perceiving  this, 

Hath  first  the  impulse  to  create  in  turn  — 

Whence  human  crave  for  household,  wife,  and  child, 

Whereby  this  earth  is  peopled  —  then,  past  that, 

The  passion  to  draw  near  Heaven's  perfectness, 

To  lose  the  Self  therein,  to  live  for  it, 

To  win  to  wonders  of  the  Rose-garden, 

To  secrets  of  the  songs  of  nightingales 

(Hark !  do  we  know  how  Heav'n  hath  taught  them 

that  ?)  ; 

To  silver  meanings  of  yon  midnight  moon, 
To  reasons  why  honey  is  sweet,  and  musk 
Fragrant,  and  skies  so  blue,  and  singing  dear  ; 


OR,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  7 1 

To  hidden  mysteries  of  Allah's  love. 

For  more  than  He  is  glorious  He  is  dear, 

More  tiian  almighty  sweet  and  beautiful, 

(Astagkfiru  'llak  !  may  He  pardon  this  !)  ; 

Led  so  by  spell  of  Love  —  be  it  for  high, 

Be  it  for  low,  whether  't  is  Arjamand 

Worthy  to  lay  a  king's  head  on  her  knees 

And  teach  him  tasks,  or  some  black  hamal's  wench 

Whose  shining  shoulders  strike  the  simple  heart, 

So  led,  the  Lover  hath  his  man's  blood  changed  — 

In  base  hearts  little,  in  the  gentle  much  — 

To  mildness  as  of  maid,  to  peace,  to  grace, 

To  sacrifice,  and  amity,  and  thirst 

For  manful  deeds,  that  each  may  show  himself 

Grand  in  the  eyes  divine  of  what  he  loves. 

For  souls  spread  forth  their  purples  and  their  gold 

Peacock-like,  in  the  sight  of  what  they  woo, 

And  even  the  slave  is  lordly  where  he  loves. 

Thus  haps  it  that  the  breasts  of  Beauty  nurse 


72  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Spirits  to  second  life  as  mother-breasts 
Nourished  the  babe  to  growth  of  boy  and  man ; 
So  falls  it  —  Sa'di  means  —  that,  lost  in  love, 
The  heart's-foot  walketh  yet  a  rightful  path, 
And  all  is  wasted  well  for  sovereign  Love  ! 

DILAZAR.    Will  men  waste  much  for  Love  ? 

GULBADAN.  Oh,  Dilazar ! 

Do  we  not  know  ?  If  Hdtim  Tai  could  give 
His  horse  for  honor,  where  's  the  lover  fond 
We  could  not  bring  to  prison-bread  and  chains  ? 

SAHEB.     What  was  it  Hatim  did,  my  Rose-bodied  ? 

GULBADAN.    If  I  have  leave,  't  is  told  of  Hatim,  Lord !  — 
The  Mirza  knows  —  how  once  he  owned  a  steed 
Swift-flying  as  the  driving  cloud,  night-black, 
With  neigh  of  thunder  ;  scattering  in  his  stride 
The  desert-stones,  as  that  thou  wouldst  have  asked 
"  Is  this  a  hail-storm  breaks  ?  "     So  fleet  a  steed 
Men  said  the  wind  lagged  after  him  ;  the  foam 
Blown  from  his  scarlet  nostrils  lacked  full  time 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  73 

To  fleck  the  dust  ere  those  strong  clattering  hoofs 

Passed  forth  from  ear-shot.     And  the  fame  of  this, 

Of  Hatim  and  his  stallion,  came  to  Roum, 

Into  the  Sultan's  ear ;  for  one  had  said, 

"  No  man  is  like  to  him  for  open  hand, 

And  nowhere  such  a  horse  to  bear  such  man  !  " 

Then  to  his  Vazir  spake  the  King  of  Roum  : 

"  Claim  without  proof  is  shame  !  let  people  go 

And  ask  that  horse  from  Hatim  ;  if  he  gives, 

On  wish  of  friendly  Liege,  what  best  he  hath, 

Then  shall  men  know  that  liberality 

Rules  perfect  in  his  breast ;  but,  if  he  grudge, 

This  talk  o'  the  world  is  but  a  drum-skin  beat." 

So,  to  the  tribe  of  Tai  the  envoy  went 
With  ten  to  guard  him ;  and  at  Hatim' s  camp, 
After  long  travel,  and  sore  times  of  strait, 
Late,  on  a  night  of  evil  weather,  lighted, 
As  glad  as  who  comes  parched  to  Zinda's  banks. 


74  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

The   Chief's   green    tents   were   pitched   amidst   the 

waste, 

The  herds  were  far,  the  grain  sacks  empty,  guests 
Nowise  awaited.     Not  the  less,  with  cheer 
Goodly  and  free  the  stranger  folk  were  fed  ; 
Full  trays  were  served  under  the  sheltering  cloth, 
Roast  meat  and  boiled  meat,  pillaw  and  kabab  : 
Sweetmeats  he  tied  them  in  their  skirts,  and  gave 
Cakes  in  their  hands  ;  and  all  night  long  they  slept 
Safe  upon  H&tim's  carpets.     When  't  was  day 
The  Sultan's  envoy  spoke  his  Lord's  desire, 
Saying  with  honeyed  phrase,  as  one  afeared, 
"  Oh,  Giver  of  the  Age  !  whose  fame  flies  wide 
For  lordliness  of  heart  and  open  hand  ! 
My  master  bids  me  ask  thy  steed  from  thee, 
That  wondrous  horse,  night-black,  swifter  than  wind, 
Which  if  thou  givest,  liberality 
Rules  perfect  in  thy  heart,  but  if  thou  grudge, 
He  saith  this  talk  o'  the  earth  is  drum-skin  noise." 


OR,  THE  BOOK   OF   LOVE.  75 

But  while  the  Sultan's  messenger  said  this, 
With  forehead  on  the  tent  floor,  and  fair  words, 
Hatim  sate  mute,  gnawing  the  hand  of  Thought 
With  teeth  of  Lamentation.     Presently 
Outbrake  he  :  "  Would  to  God,  Friend  of  my  Tribe  ! 
Thy  message  had  been  uttered  over-night ! 
The  rain  beat,  and  the  torrents  ran  death-deep 
Between  my  tents  and  where  our  pastures  spread  ; 
No  ox,  nor  goat,  nor  camel  was  in  camp ; 
What  should  I  do  ?     How  could  I,  being  I, 
Suffer  my  guests  to  sleep  all  hunger-racked  ? 
How  could  I,  being  I,  whose  name  is  known, 
Spare  what  was  dearest,  honor  being  more  ? 
Look  you  !    that   Horse  —  my  Friend  !  my  Joy  1  my 

Wealth ! 

That  Duldul,  who  could  leave  the  hawk  behind, 
Between  whose  hoofs  I  slept  as  in  safe  tent, 
Black  as  a  starless  night,  with  mouth  of  silk  — 
I  killed  him  for  your  suppers,  tell  the  King  ! " 


76  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

But  when  the  Sultan  heard  this  thing,  he  cried  : 

"  None  is  like  Hatim  !     I  would  pawn  half  Roura 

To  buy  black  Duldul's  life  for  him  again." 
SAHEB.     Thanks  !  Gulbadan  !    Will  Dilazar  doubt  yet 

What  men  may  do  ? 
DILAZAR.  Oh,  but  for  pride  —  yes  !  yes  ! 

Or  fame,  or  name,  Asylum  of  the  Time  ! 

Only  I  wonder  if  we  singing  girls 

Come  nigh  the  grace  of  such  grand  giving-ways 

Or  live  in  reach  of  Sa'di's  mysteries. 
MIRZA.     Well !  hear  how  Sa'di  still  continueth, 

For  't  is  a  Dancer  takes  the  parable  : 

\The  MIRZA  reads.] 

I  heard  how,  to  the  beat  of  some  quick  tune, 
There  rose  and  danced  a  Damsel  like  the  moon, 

Flower^mouthed  and  Pdri-faced  ;  and  all  around 

her 
Neck-stretching  Lovers  gathered  close  :  but,  soon 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  77 

A  flickering  lamp-flame  caught  her  skirt,  and  set 
Fire  to  the  flying  gauze.     Fear  did  beget 

Trouble  in  that  light  heart !     She  cried  amain. 
Quoth  one  among  her  worshippers,  "  Why  fret, 

"  Tulip  of  Love?     Th?  extinguished  fire  hath  burned 
Only  one  leaf  of  thee  !  but  I  am  turned 

To  ashes  —  leaf  and  stalk,  and  flower  and  root  — 
By  lamp-flash  of  thine  eyes  !  "  —  "  Ah,  Soul  concerned 

"  Solely  with  self !  "  —  she  answered,  laughing  low, 
"  If  thou  wert  Lover  thou  hadst  not  said  so. 

Who  speaks  of  the  JBelov'd's  woe  as  not  his 
Speaks  infidelity,  true  Lovers  know  !  " 

SAHEB.    Now,  Dilazar!  whilst  the  wise  Hussein  rests, 
Dance  us  a  dance  like  that  moon-visaged  one 
To  suit  this  night  and  make  Self  quite  forgot, 
And  tread  thy  doubts,  and  mine,  and  all,  to  dust 


78  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

With  beat  of  feet  as  soft  as  Sa'di's  verse 

And  measures  of  the  Mogul  time. 
DILAZAR.  My  Lord, 

I  fear  the  lamp  ! 
SAHEB.  See,  we  will  set  it  back  ! 

It  shall  not  burn  one  leaf  of  our  light  flower. 

Now  make  the  pacing  pea-hens  envious  ! 
DILAZAR.     If  Gulbadan  will  sing  ! 
GULBADAN.  Would  you  have  this  ? 

A  ghazal  like  the  songs  of  Arjamand 

When  the  green  Garden  had  no  milk-white  Taj. 

Maybe  she  ofttimes  heard  such  even  here,1 

1  THE  IMPERIAL  MUSICIANS.  —  "I  cannot  sufficiently  describe  the 
wonderful  power  of  this  talisman  of  knowledge  (music).  It  some- 
times causes  the  beautiful  creatures  of  the  harem  of  the  heart  to  shine 
forth  on  the  tongue,  and  sometimes  appears  in  solemn  strains  by 
means  of  the  hand  and  the  chord.  The  melodies  then  enter  through 
the  window  of  the  ear  and  return  to  their  former  seat,  the  heart,  bring- 
ing with  them  thousands  of  presents.  The  hearers,  according  to  their 
insight,  are  moved  to  sorrow  or  to  joy.  Music  is  thus  of  use  to  those 
who  have  renounced  the  world  and  to  such  as  still  cling  to  it." 

"  His  Majesty  pays  much  attention  to  music,  and  is  the  patron  of 
all  who  practise  this  enchanting  art.  There  are  numerous  musicians 
at  Court,  Hindus,  Iranis,  Turanis,  Kashmiris,  both  men  and  women. 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF   LOVE.  79 

By  moonlight,  to  the  splashing  of  the  jets, 
And  echo  of  the  bulbuls  clamoring. 
MIRZA.     Aye  !  and  to  cry  of  yonder  little  owl 
Who,  Mirza-like,  mid  all  your  heedless  notes 
Hoots  "  hoo-hoo-hoo ! " J  as  who  should  say  "  He !  He ! 
The  Highest !  only  God  is  Beautiful !  " 

La  haula  wa  la  kuwatu  —  he  sighed, 
Ilia  U  niahi !    "  Only  God  is  great ! 
No  glory  otherwhere  ! "     Then,  while  he  laid 
The  goli  on  his  pipe-bowl,  and  drew  deep 
The  scented  smoke  bubbling  through  rose-water, 
xThe  Kashmir  Damsel,  smiling,  loosed  the  shawl 
Draped  rich  about  her  hips  ;  set  firm  the  flower 
Ablaze  in  her  black  hair ;  salaamed,  and  swam 
Into  the  Persian  measure,  waving  hands, 

The  court  musicians  are  arranged  in  seven  divisions,  one  for  each 
day  in  the  week.     When  his  Majesty  gives  the  order,  they  let  the 
wine  of  harmony  flow,  and  thus  increase  intoxication  in  some,  and 
sobriety  in  others." — Aijn  30  of  Akbar. 
1  //«,  i.  e.,  "  He,"  God. 


8O  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

And  swaying  lissome  limbs,  while  Gulbadan 
Sang  to  Nishastah,  and  the  beat  of  feet : 

[GULBADAN  sings  ivhile  DILAZAR  dances.~\ 

All  in  a  Garden  fair  I  sate,  and  spied 
The  Tulips  dancing,  dancing  side  by  side, 

With  scarlet  turbans  dressed ; 
All  in  a  Garden  green  at  night  I  heard 
The  gladsome  voice  of  night's  melodious  Bird 

Singing  that  "  Love  is  Best !  " 

The  shy  white  Jasmine  drew  aside  her  veil, 
Breathing  faint  fragrance  on  the  loitering  gale, 

And  nodded,  nodded  "  Yes  ! 
"  Sweetest  of  all  sweet  things  is  Love  !  and  wise  ! 
Dance,  Tulip  !  Pipe,  fond  Bird,  thy  melodies  ! 

Wake,  Eose  of  Loveliness  ! " 

"  Yet,"  sighed  the  swaying  Cypress,  "  who  can  tell 
If  Love  be  wise  as  sweet  ?  if  it  be  well 

For  Love  to  dance  and  sing  ? 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  8 1 

I  see  —  growing  here  always  — year  by  year 
The  Bulbuls  die,  and  on  their  grassy  bier 
Rose-petals  scattering ! " 

All  in  that  Garden  green  the  Rose  replied : 
"  Ah  !  Cypress,  look  !  I  put  my  leaves  aside ; 

Mark  what  is  'mid  this  bush ! 
Three  blue  eggs  in  a  closely-woven  nest, 
Sheltered,  for  music's  sake,  by  branch  and  breast ! 

There  will  be  Bulbuls  !  hush  ! " 

All  in  that  Garden  green  the  Bulbul  trilled 

"  Oh,  foolish  Cypress  !  thinking  Love  was  killed 

Because  he  seemed  to  cease ! 
My  best  Belov'd  hath  secrets  at  her  heart, 
Gold  seeds  of  summer-time,  new  buds  to  start ; 

There  will  be  Roses  !  peace  !  " 

Then  lightlier  danced  the  Tulips  than  before 
To  waftings  of  the  perfumed  breeze,  and  more 
Chanted  the  Nightingale  : 
6 


82  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

The  fire-flies  in  the  palms  fresh  lanterns  lit ; 
Her  zone  of  grace  the  blushing  Rose  unknit, 

And  blossomed,  pure  and  pale  ! 

MIRZA.     Listen !   Once  more  the  small  gray  owlet  cries 
"  Hoo  !  hoo  !  "  among  the  palm-tops,  testifying  ; 
And  Sa'di  winneth  ye  to  larger  Love  : 


[The  MIRZA  reads.'] 

It  comes  to  me  what  a  wise  ancient  told, 

How  one,  with  God's  love  drunk,  went  —  lone  and  bold  — 

Into  the  waste,  and,  when  his  sire  with  anguish 
Of  separation  — foodless,  sleepless,  old  — 

Reproached  him,  he  replied  :  "  From  that  dear  day 
When  He  who  is  the  Friend  to  me  did  say, 

1  Mine  oivn  thou  art ! '  by  God  !  no  earthly  feeling 
In  this  glad  bosom  found  a  place  to  stay : 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  83 

"  By  G-od !  since  He  His  beauty  hath  made  knoion, 
All  other  grace  is  dream  and  shadow  grown" 

Nay  !  and  he  was  not  lost  who  left  his  people! 
Grod  found  him  ;  and  he  found  his  All,  his  Own  ! 

Shunners  of  Earth  there  be  beneath  our  sky, 
Half  angels,  half  wood-creatures,  wild  and  shy  ; 

Like  those,  they  rest  not  from  remembering  Heaven, 
Like  these,  by  day  and  night  from  men  they  fly 

Their  spirits'  function  strong,  their  senses  weak, 
Foolish  and  wise  by  turn,  maddened  and  meek ; 

Stitching  sometimes  a  mosque-coat  in  the  corner, 
Burning  sometimes  their  mosque-coats,  if  men  speak  ; 

For  life  no  strife,  for  naught  solicitude. 
Their  hearts  a  cavern  where  no  steps  intrude, 

To  Union  consecrate  ;  —  and  there  they  sit 
Reason-reft,  ear-stuffed  unto  whoso  would 


84  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Bring  counsel.     Let  them  sit !    No  duck  is  drowned 
In  water  !    No  Samundar1  yet  was  found 

Singed  by  a  flame  !  Full-stomached,  empty-handed, 
Without  a  kafilah  o'er  the  sands  they  ''re  bound. 

No  expectation  of  the  people's  praise 

Save  these  !     Enough  that  Crod  accepts  their  ways  : 

Enough  He  holds  them  dear,  His  Darweeshes, 
Who  without  wool  or  waist-cord  pass  pure  days. 

Nay  !  and  these  saints  are  like  good  vines  which  spurt 
Wine  from  blue  grapes,  with  pleasant  shadows  girt ; 

Not  like  those  others,  dark  with  evil  doings, 
No  blue  about  them  save  their  Sufi  shirt ! 

Shut  on  themselves  —  oyster-like  —  low  they  lie  ; 
Not  foam-like,  bubble-like,  careering  by 

Upon  the  wave-top.     Tear  them,  being  wise  ! 
Men-jinns  they  are,  masked  with  humanity  ; 

1  The  Salamander. 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF   LOVE.  85 

Not  men  of  flesh  and  bone  !     In  common  mould 
Strange  spirits  dwell !     Before  the  mart 's  outsold 

The  Sultan  buys  what  slaves  he  needs :  the  tailors 
Stitch  clothes,  but  not  the  S&fis  whom  they  fold. 

If  white  pearls  grew  from  all  the  hail  that  fell, 
Bazaars  as  cheap  as  cowries  might  them  sell : 

Oh!  you  shall  seldom  see  those  friends  of  Grod  ; 
For  over-gadding  they  are  not  shod  well ! 

Companions  of  retirement,  they  hear 

From  Allah's  lips  the  challenge  high  and  clear, 

"  Ye  !  am  I  not  your  Lord?  "    One  breath  of  that, 
One  draught  from  Heaven's  hid  Love-cup,  rich  and  dear, 

Hath  left  them  drunken,  till,  on  Judgment-day, 
Serdfil  blows  the  trumpet.     Threat  ye  may, 

But  edge  of  sword  hearts'  hold  shall  never  loosen  ; 
For,  loosed  —  the  glass  would  crack,  faith  fly  away. 


86  WITH  SA'DI   IN   THE   GARDEN; 

DILAZAR.     Your  Sufis  sadden  me !  not  flesh  and  blood  ; 
Shy,  desert-dwelling !     I  and  Gulbadan 
Could  win  from  such  no  lovely  gilded  shawls, 
No  gulnar-wreaths  for  neck  and  arms,  no  gems, 
No  clusters  like  to  these  —  (Mirza  Saheb,  taste  !) 
Which  hold  the  sunshine  in  their  purple  skins 
And  make  wine  lawful. 

SAHEB.  Shall  they  fetch  you  wine  ? 

DILAZAR.     No !  No !  except  Allah's  wild  wine  of  the 

grape ! 

We  are  good  Muslim  girls ;  we  do  not  pour 
Fierce  liquors  in  our  veins  as  I  have  heard 
Feringhi  ladies  use,  to  graft,  may  be, 
Red  roses  on  the  white  silk  of  their  cheeks. 

SAHEB.     Your  ladies  of  great  Akbar's  court,  'tis  said, 
And  Shah  Jahan's,  sipped  the  forbidden  juice  ; 
And  Hafiz'  Tomb  —  think,  Dilazar,  of  that ! 
They  show  us  at  Shiraz  the  marble  slab 
Set  fair  over  that  dulcet  Singer,  laid 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  87 

In  alabaster  'mid  his  cypresses, 
All  writ  with  "perfumes  and  the  wine-cup" — prayers 
For  "  Minstrels"  and  the  " Daughters  of  the  Grape." 
DILAZAR.     Oh,  yes  !  we  know  ;  't  is  mazdah  wasl,  Sir ! 
Reach  me  tamboora,  Sister!  it  goes  thus  : 

[She  sings  the  Tomb-song  of  HAPIZ.] 

"  Comes  then  the  message  of  Thy  Love  to  me, 

Bidding  arise  ? 
This  bird,  my  Soul,  yearns  to  be  floating  free 

In  Thy  pure  skies ! 

"  Oh,  call  me  but  Thy  servant,  I  will  go, 

Glad  to  be  dust ; 
Higher  than  all  desire  of  things  below 

In  Love  and  Trust ! 

"  Pour  down  upon  me  from  Thy  pitying  cloud 

Of  Mercy  fair 
Thy  Rain,  that  I  may  blossom  from  my  shroud 

In  Heaven's  high  air  ! 


88  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

"  And  ye,  who  at  my  Tomb  sit,  make  no  moan  ; 

The  wine-cups  bring! 

Bring  flowers,  and  perfumes,  and  the  lute's  clear  tone, 

And  those  that  sing  ! 

"  That  my  soul  go  a-tripping  gay  and  fain ; 

Thou,  Heart's  Delight ! 
Though  I  be  old,  embrace  me  once  again 

For  this  last  night ! 

"  Kiss  me  a-dying !  make  me  young  once  more  ! 

Be  thyself,  Sweet ! 

That  Hafiz,  rising  soul-reft  from  Earth's  floor, 

Go  with  glad  feet. 


MIKZA.     Oh  !  tola  !  toba  !  that  was  Sufic  phrase 
For  wine  of  Love  celestial,  and  far  joys 
Waiting  the  Faithful,  if  they  hold  true  faith  ; 
As  he  who  wooed  the  maid  of  Samarkand 
Whereof  our  Lord  the  Poet  singeth  next : 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  89 

[The  MIRZA  reads.]   • 
In  Samarkand  one  loved  a  Mistress  fair  ; 
Not  speech,  but  spoken  honey  thou  wouldst  swear 

Flowed  from  her  lips.     Of  beauty  so  transcendent 
The  Sun  spent  all  his  gold  to  gaze  on  her  ! 

The  corner-stones  of  continence  were  shook 
Whithersoever  her  light  glance  did  look; 

Taali  Allah  —  oh,  by  God  the  Grlorious  ! 
Her  face  for  Heaven's  sweet  mercy  wise  men  took. 

When  she  would  walk  abroad  the  eyes  of  all 
Drew  after  her  ensorcelled!    Hearts  did  fall 

Into  her  steps  and  follow  !    Lovers  longed 
To  buy  it  with  their  blood,  one  hour  to  call 

The  Lady  theirs  :  but  this  poor  Lover  worst 
Burned  for  her  ;  sent  his  sad  eyes  last  and  first 

After  her  passing  feet,  silently  glancing  ; 
And  so  it  chanced  that,  one  day,  she  outburst : 


90  WITH   SA'DI   IN  THE  GARDEN; 


"  Ai  Khira-sar  !     Perverse!    Dost  cast 
Eyes  of  a  hunter  f    I  am  not  for  thee  ! 

No  bird  thy  net  can  snare  !     Vex  me  no  farther, 
Or  thou  shalt  taste  knife-kiss  of  enmity." 

Then  some  one  spake  :  "  Thou  hearest  ?  let  her  go  ! 
Choose  kinder  fair  !    I  think  thou  wilt  not  so 

Assuage  thy  thirst  of  heart  ;  and  G-od  forbid 
Thou  shouldst  thy  life  stake  on  a  quest  of  woe  !  " 

But  he  —  love-maddened,  liver-saddened  —  heard; 
Then  from  his  souTs  depths  drew  this  patient  word, 

Saying,  "  Allow  !  with  wound  of  sword  or  knife 
She  lay  me  corpse,  by  blood  and  dust  besmeared, 

"  Will  they  not  say  —  midst  enemies  and  friends  — 
'  Here  's  he  that  by  her  hand  and  dagger  ends  '  ? 

How  to  desist  I  not  one  whit  discern  ; 
Urge  not  mere  living  makes  Love's  death  amends  ! 


OR,   THE    BOOK   OF   LOVE.  91 

"  Chidest  thou  me  ?  repentance  dost  ihou  teach  ? 
Repent  thyself !  'twere  letter  than  such  speech, 

Self-seeker  !     Nay,  but  pardon  !  all  she  doeth 
Excellent  well  is  done,  even  if  it  reach 

"  Unto  my  doom.     Oh,  I  burn  every  night, 
Slain,  moth-like,  by  her  eyes  ;  yet  morning  light 

Makes  me  alive  with  lovely  memory 
Of  musk  and  spice  wherewith  her  hair  is  plight ! 

"  If  then,  to-day  —  or  any  day  —  I  die 
In  my  Beloved's  street,  when  times  roll  by 

And  Resurrection-dawn  is  come,  consider 
My  tent  to  my  Beloved's  must  be  nigh  !  " 

Oh,  Lover  of  the  girl  of  Samarkand, 

Shabash  !  in  strife  of  heart  droop  not  the  hand  ! 

Yield  naught !  at  latest  anguish  Love  attaineth. 
Sa?di  —  whom  Love  slew  —  here  alive  doth  stand  ! 


92  WITH   SA'DI   IN  THE   GARDEN; 

SAHEB.     Well !  SJidbash! — but,  I  wonder,  did  it  please 
That  self-willed  dame  of  Samarkand  to  know 
He  would  be  waiting  for  her,  tent  all  pegged, 
When  great  Serafil  sets  the  trump  to  mouth, 
And  graves  are  opened  ?    Must  a  man  in  love 
Never  take  answer  when  the  answer  's  "  No  "  ? 

MIRZA.     Not  if  he  love  as  Sa'di  meaneth  love  ; 
For  underneath  the  scripture  this  intends 
A  soul  set  resolute  to  gain  to  God. 

SAHEB.     What  say  you  —  being  woman  —  Gulbadan  ? 

GULBADAN.    Bi-Khuda,  Saheb !  I  say  we  are  ill-pleased 
When  "  No  "  can  kill  the  seed  of  Love  in  men ;  . 
For  "  No  "  is  oft-times  woman's  touchstone  ;  "  No  " 
Tries  the  false  Love,  but  turns  with  true  to  "  Yes." 

PILAZAR.     There  is  that  story  of  the  maid  of  Marv 
Whom  one  did  follow,  uttering  earnest  vows  ; 
"  Follow  me  not !  "  quoth  she,  "  there  comes  behind 
A  woman  beautiful  as  moon  of  spring, 
I  am  but  shadow  of  her  face  and  grace  ! " 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF  LOVE.  93 

Whereat  he  turned,  and  did  encounter  so 
A  hag  of  ugliness,  zan-i-shaitan. 
Furious  he  comes  again  :  "  Why  didst  tliou  lie, 
Crook'd  Cypress  of  the  grove  ?  "  he  cries :  but  she 
Laughed,  and  said  lightly,  "  Lie  doth  warrant  lie ! 
How  couldst  thou  love  me,  when  upon  a  "  No," 
And  promise  of  some  fairer  one,  thy  feet 
Left  following  ?  " 

MIBZA.  There  she  answered  well,  methinks, 

For  even  to  fail  of  love  is  dear  in  Love, 
Which  Sa'di  telleth  us  by  what  haps  next. 

[The  MIBZA  reads.] 

One,  perishing  of  drouth,  even  while  he  died, 

"  Ah  !  to  be  drowned  !  —  how  good  !  "  with  parched  lips 

sighed. 

"  A  jab  !  "  a  foolish  friend  returned  —  "  I  wonder, 
Being  dead,  what  matters  mouth,  moisted  or  dried  ?  " 


94  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

The  sick  man  said :  "  It  matters  that  at  brink 

Of  Death  I  quaff  and  quaff,  till  Life's  chin  sink  !  "  — 

Yea,  Brother!  and, for  this  all  thirsty  Lovers 
Plunge  to  Love's  depths  ;  they  know  that  drowned  men 
drink. 

If  thou  be  lover,  grasp  her  skirt!  loose  not! 
If  she  say  "  Die  !  "  lay  life  down  on  the  spot  I 

When  thy  feet  pass  o'er  Hill  of  Non-existence,  • 
Lovely  surprises  may  become  thy  lot. 

At  seed-sowing  the  sowers'  hearts  are  fain  : 
But  when  sheaves  ripen  they  rest  well  again  ! 

In  Heaven's  high  banquet  if  Cup  come  to  mouth 
Only  at  last  round,  that's  the  last  of  pain. 

SAHEB.     Lofty  the  teaching  is,  and  fair  the  verse, 
Yet,  in  what  world  did  learned  Sa'di  live  ? 
Were  all  his  ladies  cold  and  lovers  meek 
As  those  of  Samarkand  ?    You,  Rose-bodied  ! 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  95 

Who  have  the  voice  —  you,  dark-browed  Dilazar  ! 

Would  hardly  ask  a  man  to  die  for  you, 

That  somewhere,  on  the  Hill  of  Nothingness, 

"  Lovely  surprises  might  become  his  lot." 
GULBADAN.   Ay^wai !  if  we  did  ask,  who  would  consent 

To  wait  for  us  on  that  chill  Ridge  of  Death 

Where  no  hands  clasp,  and  no  lips  are  to  kiss  ? 
DILAZAR.     Were  I  a  man,  and  loved  so,  I  'd  not  die 

Till  he  was  dead  who  kept  her  heart  from  me 

Or  she  that  so  denied  it ! 
SAHEB.  Why,  see  there  ! 

Your  black  eyes  flash  with  knife-blades  !     That 's  i' 
the  blood, 

To  have  the  form  we  prize,  and  burn  and  rage 

With  jealousy  to  lose  it,  or  to  share. 

Ask  Mirza  Hussein  how  he  makes  this  good  ? 
GULBADAN.     Ask  for  us,  Sahibli !     Feringhees  know 

So  many  books,  Aflatun,  Aristu, 

The  windings  of  the  ways  of  these  dim  things  ; 


96  WITH   SA'DI   IN   THE    GARDEN; 

We  are  the  fluttering  birds  who  come  to  peck  — 
At  evening,  when  the  noisy  world  is  still  — 
Crumbs  of  dropped  wisdom. 

SAHEB.  Now  the  Mirza  smiles  ! 

Yet  you,  oh,  Heart-destroyer !     Dilazar  ! 
You  must  have  heard  and  seen  what  Love  I  mean 
Imperative,  unswerving,  desperate, 
Not  heedful  of  sweet  Heaven  which  made  things  fair, 
Not  set  to  gentle  notes  of  nightingales, 
Not  lapped  in  ruffled  rose-leaves  ;  but  still  "  Love  " 
As  the  world  names  it,  and  some  women  deem. 

DILAZAR.     I  could  recall  a  thing,  if  my  Lords  would, 
Such  as  you  say. 

MIRZA.  Yes  !  tell  it,  Dilazar  ! 

Sa'di  will  answer. 

DILAZAR.  Presences  !  we  camped 

At  Delhi,  by  the  Kashmir  gate,  for  gain 
And  marriage-feasts,  and  doings  of  the  Eed  ; 
A  Tai'fah  of  eleven,  with  four  who  played 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  97 

Sitar  and  drum ;  and  one  was  Lakshmi  named, 
A  brown  Mahratta  girl  of  high-caste  blood 
(I  know  not  how  she  came  to  wear  the  bells) 
Beautiful  —  Sirs!  —  like  yon  moon  overhead, 
And  young,  and  yet  unyielded  —  by  some  vow  — 
Dur-i-na  sufta,  an  unthreaded  pearl ! 
We  were  commanded  to  a  Palace-feast 
Where  round  a  gay  ring  sate  the  powerful  ones, 
Rajahs  and  Sirdars,  in  a  cloistered  court 
Shining  with  lamps  and  fountains,  and  white  gleam 
Of  marbles  glistering ;  and  your  Sahebs  were  there, 
•    Proud  English  officers,  with  cold  blue  eyes 

Which  look  you  through  and  through,  and  could  look 

down 

The  green  balls  of  a  panther  in  his  spring  — 
One  of  them,  proudest,  handsomest ;  they  said 
He  had  slain  nine  in  fight,  and  never  yet 
Bent  knee  to  woman !  Lakshmi  went  with  us, 
For,  girl  albeit,  she  danced  as  no  one  else 
That  Ras  the  Deccan  favors,  with  high  song 

7 


98  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Where  Krishna  is  the  cowherd,  and  pipes  sweet, 

And  one  by  one  the  timid  milkmaids  trip 

To  list,  as  in  Brindaban  once  they  did ; 

The  snake-skin  marking  every  subtle  step. 

Our  best  had  played,  but  no  man  heeded  them, 

Rajah  or  Sirdar,  least  of  all  that  Saheb 

For  one  glance  of  whose  lordliness  we  strove, 

When  Gunesh  thumbed  the  bass  Mahratta  drum, 

And  Lakshmi  let  her  chuddur  fall,  and  stepped 

Into  the  lamp-light,  to  the  dancing-place. 

You  would  not  wonder,  Huzoor  !  had  you  seen  — 

All  started,  but  the  English  Captain  most. 

He  gazed ;  played  with  his  sabre-strap ;  and  gazed  ; 

And  drew  this  way  and  that  his  golden  beard ; 

And   clasped   his   palms,   as   'twere   some   heavenly 

dream 

So  like  a  desert-deer  she  glided  near, 
So  leaf-soft  on  the  carpets  fell  her  feet, 
So  perfect  to  the  music  moved  her  limbs, 
So  fair  she  was  and  winning,  with  no  gems 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  99 

Bound  on  her  neck,  no  rings,  no  belt  of  gold, 
Only  her  yellow  choli  and  gauze  skirt 
And  one  red  lotus  in  her  glossy  hair ! 

SAHEB.   But,  Dilaz&r !  you  paint  her  with  Love's  brush ! 

DILAZAR.     I  have  no  need !     She  was  not  good  to  me, 
Wilful  and  wayward,  with  the  Deccan  blood 
Which  takes  and  gives  not ;  yet  bewitching,  too, 
A  Neem-tree  of  the  trees,  a  Palm  for  grace ! 
Dilburda  —  ah  !  a  girl  to  steal  the  heart ! 
The  rest  you  judge.     She  set  his  blood  aflame 
Before  the  second  measure  of  the  Song, 
With  what  the  Saheb  speaks  of,  lightning-love  ; 
And  Lakshmi,  like  all  women,  saw  and  knew 
As  soon  as  he.     So,  when  she  danced  his  way 
And  finished  at  his  side  —  with  bended  head 
And  little  rose-dyed  hands  crossed  on  her  breast  — 
All  proud  and  cold  and  lordly  as  he  was 
We  saw  him  loose  the  golden  chain  he  wore 
And  knit  it  round  her  throat,  whispering  quick  praise; 


100  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

While  Lakshmi  kissed  his  hands,  and  from  her  hair 
Plucking  the  lotus  laid  it  at  his  feet. 

GOLD  AD  AN.     Naught  hindered,  then,  that  she  should 
give  him  more ! 

DILAZAR.     Much  hindered  !  for  she  hated  —  (pardon 

this, 

My  Lord ! ) — your  Saheb  L6k  !     One  of  her  house 
Perished  in  days  of  the  great  Mutiny, 
Blown  from  the  cannon's  mouth  :  Lakshmi  had  heard 
How  bold  he  stood  at  those  black  lips  of  death, 
And  how  the  red  flash  leaped,  the  white  smoke  swept, 
And  what  was  living  fearless  Man  became 
A  rolling  turban,  and  torn  twisting  shreds, 
Whirled  in  the  bloody  dust.     Another  tiling ! 
Gunesh,  who  made  the  music,  had  her  heart, 
If  there  beat  any  heart  in  that  cold  breast. 
Together  in  one  village  they  had  dwelled, 
Playmates  from  birth,  and  promised  each  to  each. 
Therefore  in  vain  the  English  Captain  prayed, 
In  vain  his  strong  neck  bent  at  Lakshmi's  feet! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  IOI 

Naught  won  he  with  that  brown  Mahratta  maid 
By  gifts,  or  words,  or  honeyed  messages, 
Save  "  Never !  never  !  "  from  sweet  lips  set  close, 
And  looks  from  Gunesh  fierce  enough  to  kill. 

SAHEB.     I  am  ashamed  my  countryman  so  stooped  ! 

DILAZAR.     Ah,  Grharib  Purwar!  you  have  said ;  't  was 

Fate! 

'T  was  that  wild  force  which  will  not  let  us  be  ! 
Your  countryman  was  high  and  dutiful 
Till  Nuseeb  smote  him  with  the  dark  girl's  glance, 
Then  all  was  naught  save  Lakshmi.     'T  is  our  way, 
Nay  !  't  is  our  sin,  which  shall  have  punishment, 
To  know  that  this  may  be,  and  make  it  be. 

SAHEB.     I  deem  not  love  so  blind,  manhood  so  weak  ! 

DILAZAR.    Afsos  !  it  happens !  He  would  ride,  of  nights, 
Twenty- five  koss  to  see  her  dance ;  would  quit 
His  friends,  his  tasks,  the  race,  the  tiger-hunt, 
If  he  might  snatch  one  hour  at  dusk  to  plead 
With  Lakshmi  for  her  love  — yet  all  in  vain, 
Because  of  Gunesh,  and  her  vow,  and  grudge 


102  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Stored  in  her  veins  against  the  Gora-L6k. 

But  one  day  came  a  Sonar,  selling  stones, 

Nose-gems  and  ear-gems,  chatkis  for  the  toes, 

Jasams  for  elbow-bands,  and  gote  and  har, 

Bala  and  mala  ;  and,  when  all  were  shown, 

A  string  of  great  picked  pearls,  and  two  pearl-moons 

"Wrapped  in  a  cloth.     "  See !  I  unroll  you  these 

That  you  may  dream  you  wear  them  !  "  mockingly 

He  said,  and  laid  the  milky  luxuries 

On  Lakshmi's  knee  —  "I  have  a  prince  will  give 

Rupees  six  thousand  for  that  beauteous  row : 

Who  wears  it  wears  a  jagliir  round  her  neck  ! " 

Then  Lakshmi's  eyes  lighted  with  leopard's  gleam, 

Her. small  brown  eager  hands  fondled  the  pearls, 

Twice  round  her  throat  she  clasped  the  string  and 

sighed  : 

"  Shiva !  how  beautiful :  would  't  were  my  Prince  !  " 
And  he  was  by,  watching  her  ache  for  it. 

GULBADAN.     I  guess  your  story  now  ! 

DILAZAR.  No  !  not  its  worst ! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  103 

We  were  to  journey  next  day  northwards  —  far  — 
But  that  night,  through  the  lattice  of  our  hut 
I  saw  his  gold  lace  glitter,  where  she  sate  ; 
I  heard  his  deep  voice  shake,  while  he  said  this  : 
"  Lakshmi !  without  your  love  I  shall  not  live  : 
Take  from  my  soul  the  spell  of  those  great  eyes 
Or  heal  their  mischief  with  those  flow'r-soft  lips  !  " 
But  "  Denga  nahin  !  "  she  muttered,  "  Saheb,  no  ! 
My  father's  brother  at  the  cannon's  mouth 
Had  so  much  love  as  I  will  give  to  thee  !  " 
And  then  he  clinked  his  spurs,  and  whispered  wild, 
"  Thou  wilt  not  love  me  ?  black  Mahratta  witch  ! 
Who  hast  the  bosom  of  Heaven  and  heart  of  Hell, 
Well !  let  me  buy  thee  !  "  and  therewith  he  flung 
That  milk-white  lovely  pearl-string  in  her  lap, 
Which  coiled  across  the  velvet  skin  like  snake 
White-bellied,  shining,  worming  flickering  road 
Over  dusk  leaves,  and  like  the  subtle  snake 
Struck  her,  and  stung  that  sullen  soul  with  greed. 


104  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

SAHEB.    What !  yielded  she  ? 

DILAZAR.  She  had  the  Deccan  itch, 

That  strain  of  Sivaji  !     I  saw  her  play 
Wistfully  with  the  pearls ;  and  then  she  plucked 
Her  temple-flower,  the  rose-red  lotus-bud, 
Forth  from  her  hair,  and  flung  it  at  his  feet 
With  petulant  quick  cry,  as  once  before ; 
And  wound  the  white  string  back  and  forth  in  gleams 
Amid  her  braids  ;  and,  letting  loose  the  shawl 
Tied  round  her  waist,  arose,  made  low  salaam, 
And  beckoned  him  inside  the  purdah  ;  still 
Twisting  those  pearls  tight  in  her  untied  hair. 
I  laughed  and  slept. 

GULBADAN.     Where,  then,  's  '  the  worst '  in  this  ? 

DILAZAR.    Herein!  that  Gunesh  saw  him  come  and  go! 
Next  dawning,  at  what  hour  the '  Wolf's  Tail '  sweeps 
The  sky  clear  of  late  stars,  in  his  own  tent 
That  Saheb  lay  with  proud  heart  still  a-beat, 
Musing  on  Lakshmi,  and  her  dear-bought  love. 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  105 

'T  was  such  a  time  as  this  —  you  feel  how  still ! 

Tethered  close  by  the  cattle  shook  their  bells ; 

You  heard  them  chew  the  fodder  sleepily  ; 

Far  off  the  first  crow  cawed,  winging  for  food  ; 

The  Dam-i-subh,  soft  Breath  of  Morning,  shook 

The  flag  at  quarter-guard,  and  stirred  the  grass  ; 

The  tent-cloths  flapped,  the  gray  light  crept  and  spread, 

The  jackals  sniffed  the  coming  day,  and  yelled : 

A  bugle  of  reveille  blew  !     He  rose 

To  cool  his  brow  with  kiss  of  morn :  lo  !  there, 

Face  to  face,  at  the  entrance  of  his  tent  — 

Set  on  a  lance-staff  planted  in  the  sand  — 

Was  Lakshmi's  head  !  that  rose-red  temple-flower 

Replaced  amid  her  blood-stained  braids,  those  pearls 

Knotted  upon  her  bleeding  throat,  the  eyes  — 

Which  were  so  lustrous  —  glazed  and  blank,  the  mouth 

A-grin  with  Death's  ill-laughter  !     Round  the  spear 

Fluttered  a  paper  written :  "  Sahebji  ! 

You  bought  her  false  lips  dear  !  have  now,  beside, 


106  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Head,  neck,  and  all!  with  every  hair  a  curse 
On  her,  and  you! —  G-unesh,  the  Deccannee" 

SAHEB.     Aye,  so  !    And  what  would  Sa'di  say  of  this  ? 

MIRZA.     Sa'di  would  say  this  was  not  Love  at  all, 
But  bitter  Lust,  which  loves  itself,  and  buys 
Pleasure  for  self,  at  whoso's  cost  and  pain. 
The  true  Love  riseth  from  dear  Beauty  seen  — 
By  gentleness,  submission,  reverence  — 
To  larger  Beauty  unbeheld  ;  adores 
The  Painter  in  his  picture ;  at  cup's  brim 
Tastes  wine,  with  heart  fixed  on  the  Cup-bearer, 
Ever  made  kindly  to  the  sweet  thing  loved. 
The  false  love  is,  as  these  of  Dilazar, 
Furious  and  pitiless  in  will  to  have, 
Mean  and  unloving  in  the  act  to  yield, 
Arid  savage  in  swift  hate  of  what  was  prized ; 
The  amouring  of  beasts  that  kiss  with  teeth ! 
Hear  rather  wise  Lord  Sa'di,  in  this  verse 
Which  cometh  from  the  honeyed  Grulistan  : 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  IO/ 

[The  MIRZA  recites.'] 

A  Lover,  with  his  loved  One,  sailed  the  sea, 
Voyaging  home  in  tender  company  : 

There  blew  a  wind  of  Death  upon  the  waters  ; 
There  broke  a  billow  of  calamity  ! 

It  swept  them  from  the  deck  to  dreadful  breast 
Of  the  black  ocean.     To  that  pair  distressed 

The  mariners  flung  forth  a  plank  of  rescue  ; 
It  reached  them  drowning  on  the  tossing  crest. 

Too  slender  't  was  to  help  —  if  both  should  hold  ; 
They  saw  him  round  the  plank  her  weak  arms  fold, 

"  Gir !  Dast-i-yar-i-man !  "  he  uttered  softly  ; 
"  Clasp  f  hands!  dearer  than  Life  to  me!"     The  cold 

Sitter  salt  swallowed  him.     But  those  who  brought 
His  beauteous  Maid,  saved  by  that  sweet  deed  wrought, 


108  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Spake,  saying,  "  Never  lived  there  truer  Lover  ! 
Majnun  ly  such  a  marvel  had  been  taught !  " 

SAHEB.     Your  Shaikh  Muslihu-d-din  Shir^zi  has 
Fair  meditations,  Mirza !  does  it  teach  — 
His  "  Garden  "  —  why,  in  our  mid  hearts,  we  feel 
'T  was  better  for  that  faithful  Lover  dead 
Than  for  Dilazar's  living  ? 

MIRZA.  Sir !  it  doth. 

If  we  should  measure  bulk  and  wealth  of  bliss 
As  we  mete  grain  or  gold  dust,  he  who  sank 
Tasted  more  perfect  pleasure  of  the  soul 
In  that  one  eager  instant's  sacrifice, 
In  that  last  worship  of  his  Well-Beloved, 
Choking  with  brine,  buying  her  breath  with  death, 
Than  Lakshmi's  Lover  witli  his  evil  gift. 
Oh !  Sufis  know  how  dearer  far  than  wine 
The  Tavern-Keeper  is,  how  lovelier 
Than  any  picture  is  the  Painter's  face ! 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  1 09 

And  these  two  knew  it,  at  whose  graves  we  sit, 
Arjamand,  and  the  Emperor,  who  held 
Love  dearer  than  their  greatness  and  their  realms. 
Can  you  sing  Mdlik  budam,  Gulbadan  ! 
If  Dilazar  sings  the  Sultana's  verse  ? 

[GULBADAN  sings.} 

I  was  Sultan  of  Hind  and  the  mountains ; 

Chenab  and  Ravee 
Were  mine,  from  their  silver-white  fountains 

To  the  sands  of  the  sea : 
And  Gunga  and  Jumna,  with  blisses 

Of  Lordship  and  Line ; 
Yet  I  counted  them  less  than  thy  kisses, 

My  Lady  divine ! 

^ 

[DiLAZAR  sings.] 

I  had  gold  robes  and  greatness,  and  sweetness ; 

I  was  queen  of  the  Land ; 
In  my  Palace  shone  pride  of  completeness  ; 

On  my  lips  sate  command  : 


I  10  WITH   SA'DI   IN   THE   GARDEN; 

But  the  heart  of  my  Lord  was  my  glory, 
Not  the  crown  on  my  brows ; 

And  my  garden  is  green  with  Love's  story, 
And  my  Tomb  is  Love's  House  ! 

SAHEB.     Thanks  !  Bulbuls  of  our  Rose-grove  !     Now 

what  next 
Will  the  scroll  say  ? 
MIRZA.  It  turns  to  constant  Faith : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

I  have  a  tale  of  them  that  go  about 

Treading  G-od's  road  —  rich  beggars,  kings  ?  the  clout : 

An  old  man  't  was,  wending  at  early  morning, 
Who  spied  a  mosque  porch,  and  he  raised  his  shout. 

Then,  some  one  said :  "  Here '«  not  the  People's  Door, 
Where  they  give  anything  ;  hoivl  thou  no  more  !  " 

The  Ancient  asked,  "  Whose  is  this  Mansion,  Friend, 
Where  they  give  nothing  to  Heaven's  starving  poor  ?  " 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  Ill 

He  said  :  "  KhamSshi !  hush  !  speak  no  rash  word  ! 
The  Master  of  this  house  is  Grod  the  Lord." 

The  old  man  looked;  he  saw  Lamp  and  Mihrdb : 
Forth  from  his  liver  this  lament  he  poured  : 

"  Alack ,  alack  !  I  will  stay  here  I  trow, 
Alack  !  if  help  befalleth  me  not  so  ! 

I  came  not  forth  from  any  street  unpitied, 
From  Gf-od's  door  yellow-faced  why  should  I  go  ? 

"Hand  of  entreaty  will  I  stretch  out  here, 
That  it  come  empty  back  I  shall  not  fear" 

Therewith  he  sate,  sojourner,  suppliant, 
Lifting  the  palm  of  asking  all  one  year. 

At  the  year's  end  his  foot  of  Life  went  low 
Into  Death's  clay  ;  his  heart  beat  fast  and  slow, 

Drumming  Departure's  march.     One  held  a  lantern 
At  daybreak,  scanning  him.     Faint  as  the  glow 


112  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

Of  lamp-wick  in  the  dawning,  so  his  snuff 

Of  waning  life  still  burned  ;  from  weasand  rough 

They  heard  him  murmur :  "  Oh,  at  last  it  opens, 
Grod's  Q-ateway,  if  we  beat  it  long  enough  ! 

"  Sweet  and  submissive  be  His  grace  to  win, 
I  never  heard  an  Alchymist  gave  in  ;  — 

Look  how  he  melts  pure  gold  in  th1  alembic, 
That  one  day,  peradventure,  brass  begin 

"  To  shine  forth  gold  !    And  gold  is  good  to  spend 
For  fitting  ends  ;  and  what  were  fitter  end 

To  lavish  gold  and  life  and  all  for  buying, 
Than  Grod  the  Lover's  love,  God's  the  great  Friend  f 

"  When  by  some  ravisher  of  hearts  thy  heart 
Is  straitened,  wise  it  were  from  such  to  part ; 
Another  will  console  thee  ;  unkind  faces 
Render  days  bitter  !     Cool  the  false  fire's  smart 


OK,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  113 

"  With  dew  of  fresher  lips  !     Lightly  men  quit 
Love,  when  light  need  their  spirits  have  of  it ; 

But  if  She  be  beautiful  past  compare. 
Then,  for  small  griefs  to  go,  that  were  unfit !  " 


SAHEB.     I  mark  how  steadfastly  Sa'di  will  lift 
Passion  of  Earth  to  Heavenly  :  we,  too  much, 
Muse  upon  God  as  Glorious,  Awful,  Great 
Majestic,  Just,  Holy,  Inflexible, 
Forgetting  He  is  Beauty,  Sweetness,  Joy, 
Desire,  Delight,  Fulfilment  of  all  wish, 
Is  it  not  so  ? 

MIRZA.  Ay,  Saheb  !  't  is  so  !     Jamdl, 

The  grace  of  God  —  is  greater  than  Jeldl, 
Glory  of  God :  but  at  the  last  these  meet 
In  Love  shown  Power,  and  Power  grown  beautiful, 
Pitiful,  reconciling,  ridding  sins  ; 
As  shall  be  seen  in  this  which  followeth : 


114  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

[The  MIKZA  reads.] 

I  heard  that  old  One,  all  his  night  of  woe, 
Raised  hand  of  need  to  Heaven  devoutly  so  : 

And  some  voice  said  again :  "  Profitless  Fool ! 
Sar-i-Kwesh  gir !     Take  thine  affairs  and  go  ! 

"  Thy  prayer  is  unaccepted  at  this  Door  ! 
Depart  rejected  I  trouble  peace  no  more  ! 

When  thou  hast  seen  Attention's  Wicket  fastened, 
Prolong  not  uselessly  a  struggle  sore  !  " 

The  tears  which  trickled  down  his  aged  cheek, 
Had  tinge  of  blood  while  his  thin  lips  did  speak  : 
"Ay,  Crholam!  hopeless  had  I  turned  away 
And  left  this  House  some  other  house  to  seek : 

"  But  if  thy  friend  in  wrath  from  thee  doth  snap 
Bridle,  wilt  thou  not  seize  his  saddle-strap  ? 
An  asker,  disappointed  at  one  gateway, 
Knowing  another  open  hath  good  hap  ! 


OB,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  115 

**  Ye  say  my  way  is  nowise  in  this  street, 
Yet  nowhere  else  shines  any  chance  so  sweet ; 

Nowhere  another  Path,  nowhere  a  Portal !  " 
With  that  his  head  upon  the  earth  he  beat. 

And,  suddenly,  was  whispered  —  as  he  died  — 
In  his  soul's  ear,  "  Son,  thou  art  justified ! 

Kabul  ast !  't  is  accepted  !  have  thou  comfort  I 
Except  in  Us  no  comfort  could  betide  !  " 

SAHEB.     Yes  !  but  how  long  he  waited  !  this  is  hard  ! 
Sometimes,  perchance,  we  see  and  know  how  rich 
That  Unseen  Beauty  is ;  —  but  Heaven  is  far 
And  Earth  is  near  !  we  beg  in  the  next  street, 
We  crave  for  passing  hearts,  not  good  to  crave ; 
We  knock  at  porches  showing  well  outside, 
Forgetting  God's  fair  gate  !     Somebody  gives  ! 
We  munch  our  crust  of  Love,  and  live  !    What  good 
To  lie  and  die  at  door  of  Allah's  house  ? 


Il6  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

What  strength,  if  there  were  good  ?  since  night  must 

come, 

And  cold  and  emptiness  ? 
MIRZA.  But  after  night 

The  happier  day  !     Sing  him  the  yar-i-man, 
Those  verses  that  the  glad  dead  Minstrel  writes 
Of  "  Death  and  Darkness,"  Gulbadan  !  and  then 
I  will  read  Sa'di. 

[GULBADAN  sings.~\ 

Fear  not  the  darkness,  Friend  and  Lover  ! 

The  fount  of  Life  ariseth  there  ! 
Rest  comes  when  hope  of  Rest  is  over  ; 

I  suffered,  but  am  happy  here  \ 

Consume  thou  not  thy  soul  with  scorning, 
Because  Desire  found  no  allay : 

Soon  will  there  be  bright  birth  of  Morning 
The  Night  is  far  gone  with  the  Day  ! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE. 

MIRZA.    True  !  had  we  never  seen  Day's  miracle, 
Who,  looking  eastward  now  of  Mumtaz'  Shrine, 
Would  dream  glad  Morning,  'neath  yon  silent  stars, 
Gathered  her  saffron  sari  to  trip  forth, 
With  sun  for  forehead-jewel  ?     Man  must  wait, 
And  not  "  for  every  little  let  make  moan  !  " 
This  will  our  Master's  verses  now  impart : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.} 

A  new-wed  Bride,  in  tender  discontent. 

To  One,  gray-haired,  made  of  her  Lord  lament, 

Saying :  "  Thy  son  no  praise  from  thee  doth  merit, 
So  cold  he  is,  so  ill  my  hours  are  spent. 

"  Those  who  with  us  in  the  same  village  dwell, 
I  never  mark  their  looks  of  heart-ache  tell ; 

Such  close  companions,  man  and  woman,  are  they, 
That  thou  mightst  say,  '  two  almonds  in  one  shell!' 


Il8  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

"  But  I  have  never  seen  mine  —  all  this  ivhile — 
Ciaze  once  upon  my  face  with  loving  smile  !  " 

The  father,  kindly-hearted,  heard  her  speech; 
The  white-haired  one  her  grief  knew  to  beguile : 

The  answer  which  he  gave  was  soft  and  sweet, 
Saying,  "He  is  so  comely,  it  were  meet 

To  love  and  wait,  enduring  till  he  love  thee  : 
'  T  were  pity  from  such  path  to  turn  thy  feet, 

"  Since  nowhere  in  the  world  could  any  be 
So  dear,  so  near,  so  framed  for  unity"  — 

0  Man  !  wilt  thou  be  petulant  with  G-od, 
Whose  reed  —  if  He  were  petulant  with  thee  — 

Blots  out  all  writing  of  thy  life  ?     Obey  ! 

Be  still,  and  wait  for  word  which  He  will  say  ! 

The  Lord's  time  is  the  servants'  time  ;  and  never 
Another  Lord  like  Him  shall  come  thy  way  ! 


OR,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  119 

Once  my  heart  burned  in  pity  for  a  Slave, 
Who  at  the  selling-place  this  utterance  gave  : 

"  Ah,  Master  !  Better  bondsman  thou  mayst  find, 
But  I  no  better  Master  e'er  can  have  I  " 

SAHEB.    Yet,  none  the  less  for  that  Slave's  faithfulness, 
His  Master  sold  him  ! 

MIRZA.  Yea !  and  none  the  less 

That  Love  which  did  forgive  and  cling  to  Love 
Went  with  the  Slave,  and  made  him  happier  days, 
Or  stronger  soul  to  bear  the  ill  days.     Sir  ! 
It  is  not  needful  Love  should  win  its  wish 
But  only  needful  that  it  work  its  work. 
Yon  palms  grew  high  striving  towards  the  Sun, 
They  shall  not  reach  him,  but  —  uptending  thus  — 
Leaves,  flowers,  and  fruit  have  come !    Past  question, 

here 

In  this  world,  midway  'twixt  the  light  and  dark, 
Much  is  to  wish  and  wonder  at :  hearts  play  — 


120  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Like  Akbar  with  his  ladies  —  hoodman-blind 
Among  the  courts  and  cloisters  of  our  life : 
They  stumble,  and  they  fumble,  and  go  wrong ; 
Of  this,  moreover,  doth  the  Master  speak  : 

[The  MIRZA  reads. ] 

There  dwelled  in  Marv  a  Hdkim,  angel-faced  ; 
His  form,  in  Garden  of  the  Heart,  was  graced 

As  is  the  cypress :  yet  he  had  not  skill 
To  heal  sick  souls,  nor  know  when  passion's  waste 

Dimmed  longing  eyes.     And  some  one  —  ill  at  heart, 
Spake  afterwards  :  "I had  Love's  bitter  smart 

For  him  !    I  wished  not  ever  to  be  well, 
Lest  he  should  call  me  cured,  and  so  depart"  — 

Much  wisdom  is  there,  hard  to  overthrow, 
Which  Love's  strong  sorcery  can  bring  full  low. 

Hand  of  light  Love,  when  it  holds  Wisdom's  ear, 
Makes  Sense  with  muzzle  in  the  dust  to  go  ! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  121 

DILAZAR.     If  't  were  a  woman  she  had  surely  known  ! 

Our  sex  owns  one  more  sense  than  yours,  my  Lords ! 

'T  is  giv'n  that  we  may  read  the  hearts  of  men 

Through  thirty  silences. 
GULBADAN.  But  did  he  doubt  ? 

There  is  a  verse  on  that,  in  two  soft  parts, 

When  first  the  Lady,  next  the  Lover  speaks  : 

They  sing  it  in  the  Afghan  towns  : 
SAHEB.  Sing  now, 

Nightingale  of  the  Age  ! 
GULBADAN.  Hazrat !  I  shall, 

If  Dilaz^r  will  tread  the  step,  and  say 

The  Lady's  portion : 

\Tliey  sing,  and  DILAZAR  dances.] 

GULBADAN.     I  am  sitting  in  sadness,  deep-stricken 
With  a  wound  that  is  death, 
If  thou  com'st  not,  Physician !  to  quicken 
My  soul  with  thy  breath. 


122  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Have  you  seen,  have  you  seen,  oh  my  Brothers  ! 

A  Hawk  flying  south  ; 
Blacker-plumed,  brighter-eyed  than  all  others, 

With  a  heart  in  his  mouth  ? 

Ah  !  stay  him  !  't  is  mine,  it  is  mine  ! 

He  has  reft  it  amain  ! 
I  am  red  with  Love's  blood,  with  the  wine 

That  is  pressed  from  Love's  vein. 

DILAZAR.   My  Beloved  hath  breasts  like  pomegranates  ! 

Her  teeth  are  sea-pearls  ! 
Her  eyes  shine  with  splendor  of  planets  ; 

Like  the  tangled  silk  curls 

The  heart-net  enwove  by  her  tresses  ; 

I  fly  with  faint  feet !  " 
Oh,  Allah !  her  clinging  caresses ! 

Is  Thy  *  Garden '  so  sweet  ? 

My  Beloved  knows  not  how  I  love  her, 

That  the  sick  one  is  I ; 

I  escape,  lest  the  patient  recover, 

And  the  Hakim  should  die. 


OR,   THE  BOOK   OF  LOVE.  123 

MIRZA.     Vainly  he  strives  to  fly,  if  it  be  fate  ; 
And  fate  comes,  good  or  bad,  by  woman's  hand 
As  judgment,  too,  must  come  by  woman's  mouth. 

SAHEB.     Ajab  !  how  strange  !  a  priest  of  Frangestan l 
Wrote  likewise  in  his  glittering  French, "  That  Day — 

.     That  Judgment-day  —  the  sentences  men  hear 
Will  be  the  sentences  pronounced  on  them 
By  women,  countersigned  of  God  the  Lord." 

DILAZAR.     Bi-Khuda  !  then  how  I  will  punish  some  ! 

GULBADAN.  By  great  Jibrjlil !  how  sweet  to  pardon,  then! 

MIRZA.     Oh,  but  you  also  shall  be  then  adjudged  ! 
Our  Lord  the  Prophet  (peace  be  unto  him  !) 
Recorded  that  of  perfect  womankind 
Were  never  more  than  four  —  Asia  the  Queen 
King  Pharaoh's  wife ;  Khadijah,  Fatima  ; 

1  "  En  somrne,  j'ai  etc  aime  des  femmes  dont  51  m'importait  le  plus 
d'etre  aime.  .  .  .  Ma  part  aete  bonne  et  ne  me  sera  pas  enlevee ;  car  je 
m'imagine  souvent  que  les  jugements  qui  seront  portes  sur  cliacun  de 
nous  dans  la  vallee  de  Josaphat  ne  seront  autres  que  les  jugements  des 
femmes,  contresigne  par  1'Eternel."  —  KEXAN,  "Souvenirs  d'Enfance 
et  de  Jeunesse,"  p.  361. 


124  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

And  the  Lord  Isa's  mother,  Mariam. 
But  now  will  Sa'di  warn  ye  in  his  verse 
How  hard  to  conquer  is  misguiding  Love : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

Was  one  that  trained  his  sinews,  day  and  night, 
Meaning  to  grapple  with  a  Lion's  might ; 

He  found  his  Lion — grappled  —  but  he  found 
Scant  strength,  in  such  a  deadly  grip,  to  fight. 

Quoth  one  who  watched,  **  Dost  sleep  ?  art  woman  grown? 
Strike  him  that  blow  of  brass  thou  mad'st  thine  own  !  " 

"  Alas  !  it  is  not  possible  thereby 
To  conquer  Lions  !  "  —  so  they  heard  him  moan. 

With  Wisdom — when  False  Love  puts  forth  command, 
'Tis  as  that  Lion,  and  that  hunter's  hand  ! 

No  iron-grasp  shall  help  thee,  woman-weak  ; 
Love's  bat  drives  Reason's  ball  from  stand  to  stand. 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  125 

SAHEB.     I  see  not  Sa'di  puts  the  case  of  him 
Who  loves  aright,  yet  is  not  loved,  and  finds 
No  love  elsewhere  :  for,  surely,  hard  to  tread 
The  heavenward  way  is,  if  no  guide  will  lead. 
Here  in  your  East,  you  set  the  problem  by 
With  marriage-brokers  ;  or  mate  baby-hearts, 
Which  grow  by  stress  of  years  and  circumstance 
To  suit  and  fit  like  two  nuts  in  one  shell ; 
But  in  our  West,  where  all  are  free  to  choose, 
This  pinches !     One  we  honor  for  his  songs  — 
Greater  than  Sa'di's  self1  —  asks  wistfully  : 
"  Of  Love  that  never  found  his  earthly  end 
What  sequel  ?  streaming  eyes  and  broken  hearts  ? 
And  all  the  same  as  if  it  had  not  been  ?  " 

MIRZA.    Naught  is  the  same  "  as  if  Love  had  not  been ! " 
Where  it  hath  shone  it  is  like  sunlight  poured 
On  seeds  which  slept,  surprising  naked  soil 
Into  new  verdure,  and  an  unhoped  Spring. 
1  Lord  Tennyson. 


126  WITH  SAT>I  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Nor  'scape  we,  by  our  Eastern  ways,  those  griefs 
Springing  from  liberty.     Yet  reason  tells 
Who  would  be  loved  must  needs  show  lovable, 
Otherwise  is  he  like  that  man  of  Resht 
Whose  honey  none  would  buy  in  all  the  town. 

SAHEB.    What  man  was  he  ? 

GULBADAN.  I  know  whom  Mirza  means  ! 

Play,  Dilazar  !  the  tune  goes  :  "  Was  a  maid :  " 

[GULBADAN  sings.} 

Was  a  maid  sold  honey-comb, 

Sweeter  ran  her  tongue  than  honey ; 

Sweet,  indeed,  as  sugar-reed  ; 

Buyers  flocked  to  her  with  money  : 

If  't  were  poison  she  had  cried, 

All  the  to\vn  had  bought  and  died ! 

One  of  bitter  heart  and  face 

Marked  her  custom,  envied  her ; 

He  'd  sell  honey  in  her  place, 

Gain  the  dirhams,  cause  the  stir ! 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  I2/ 

With  his  honey-pots  he  went 
And  his  looks  of  ill  content. 

Up  and  down  the  thronged  bazaar 

Still  he  shouted,  "  Come  and  buy ! " 
But  he  found  no  customer, 

-     Not  so  much  as  one  blue  fly. 
Some  one  spake  at  evening's  hour, 
"  Sour  mouth  maketh  sweetness  sour ! " 

MIRZA.    Aye,  girl !  hearts  must  unchuii  themselves  for 

this  ! 

And  Sa'di  truly  saith,  in  what  ensues, 
There  is  no  power  in  Love  Love  to  command  : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

Not  always  Love  breeds  Love  !     Two  cousins  wedded, 
Two  sun-bright  ones, — with  wealth  and  high  race  steaded; 

For  her  to  call  him  Lord  befell  divinely, 
For  him  "'twas  shame  and  shamming , since  they  bedded. 

She  showed  all  gentilesse  and  tender  grace  ; 
He  to  the  wall  turned  constantly  his  face  ; 


128  WITH   SA'DI   IN  THE  GARDEN; 

She  decked  herself  for  joy  of  love  and  living, 
He  asked  for  death  rather  than  her  embrace. 

The  village  elders  summoned  him  ;  they  spake  :  — 
"  Thy  heart  is  not  towards  her  !  let  her  take 

Dowry  and  go  !  "  He  laughed  :  "Five  score  of  sheep 
No  loss  were,  if  deliverance  those  would  make." 

She  of  the  Pari-eyebrows  flayed  her  cheek 

"With  her  own  nails.     She  cried  :  "  How  will  ye  speak 

Of  gain  to  me  by  ruin  ?     Can  I  suffer 
Life  without  Love  ?     Cease  ye  from  him  to  seek 

"  A  hundred,  or  six  hundred  thousand  head  : 
All  shares  are  poor  except  I  share  his  bed  !  "  — 

And,  good  sooth  !  that  which  bindeth  hearts  together 
Is  hearts-ease  ;  otherwise  the  end  is  said  !  " 

SAHEB.    What  end  ? 

MTRZA.  The  end  that  Allah  ordcreth 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  129 

For  little  hath  Love  taught  unless  it  teach  - 
Submission.     Hear  this  next  verse  of  the  Ishk  : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.'] 

A  certain  man  inquired  of  one  who  lay 
Soul-stricken  on  the  Mosque-floor,  "  Dost  thou  pray 

For  Life  or  Death  f  "  He  ansivered,  "Task  nothing  ! 
What  He  adjudges  I  accept  alway" 

MIRZA.     Yet  when  it  falls  that  each  in  the  other  finds 
True  shadow  of  the  Heavenly  Light,  sure  sound 
Of  Sama',  Allah's  music,  —  then,  no  fate 
Will  part  those  souls,  nor  make  them  two  for  one. 
'T  is  Laila  and  Majnun  ;  —  Laila  who  laughs 
Before  the  Sultan,  saying  :  "  Lord  of  Lords  ! 
If  thou  wouldst  know  how  beautiful  I  am 
Look  on  me  through  the  eyes  of  my  Majnun  ! " 
And  Majnun,  proud  and  certain  in  his  pain, 
Who  will  not  ever  suffer  that  men  deem 
9 


130  WITH   SA'DI   IN   THE    GARDEN; 

The  desert  leagues  can  separate  their  souls ; 
"Will  send  no  tidings  to  his  Lady's  ear, 
'  As  if  he  lived  not  always  in  her  breast. 

[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

One  to  Majnun  spake  :  "  Oh,  of  noblest  lot ! 
Whatfalleth  that  to  Hayy  thou  contest  not? 

Thy  love  for  Laila,  peradventure,  passes  ; 
Tliy  fancy  turns ;  thy  heart  no  more  is  hot" 

He  heard,  the  hapless  one,  and,  weeping,  said: 
"  Good  Sir,  let  go  my  skirt !  Love  is  not  dead  ! 

1  have  the  same  heart,  sorroirful  and  bleeding, 
Pour  not  thy  salt  upon  its  wounds,  still  red  ! 

"  Thus  to  be  severed  is  not  to  forget, 

Nor  absence  fault,  when  Fate  decreeth  it" 

Quoth  t'  other,  "Ah,  most  faithful  one  and  gentle! 
Utter  some  errand  on  my  tongue  to  set 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  131 

"  For  Lailafrom  Majntin"     He  answered :  "Bear 
No  message  in  my  name  to  her  most  dear! 

To  speak  as  we  were  twain,  and  I  not  she, 
Is  treason  ;  —  where  she  is  I,  too,  am  there." 

SAHEB.     Why,  such  a  lover  might  on  moonbeams  live  ! 
And,  see  !  how  tenderly  they  silver  now 
Arjamand's  Dome  !     How  black  the  cypresses 
Range  in  still  ranks  against  the  milk-white  walls  ! 
flow  stately  soar  the  arrowy  minarets 
From  yon  dark  garden  where  the  Bird  of  Night 
Trills  the  same  love-lament  a  hundred  times 
To  the  hushed  Rose,  not  tired  of  listening  ; 
While  crickets  chirrup  —  as  we  chatter  here  — 
With  little  voice  which  lives  where  Kings  lie  dumb ! 
If  now  we  might  but  see  Mumtaz  the  Queen 
Pace  in  her  Pleasaunce,  strayed  from  Paradise 
With  beauty  perfected  —  as  Sa'di  sings  — 
With  eyes  grown  wise  by  what  Death  teaches  Love, 


132  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE  GARDEN; 

With  robes,  splendid,  but  airy  like  these  mists 
Rolling  o'er  Jumna ;  and,  beside  her,  him, 
The  King  that  had  the  lordly  loving  mind, 
Happy,  majestic  !     Hussein  !  is  it  true 
That  Shah  Jahan  never  felt  any  wish 
Apart  from  Arjamand  ?  that,  all  those  years, 
Master  of  all  the  loveliness  of  Hind, 
The  Imperial  Lover  only  lived  for  her  ? 
MIRZA.     They  tell  this  story  of  Queen  Arjamand : 
So  fair  she  was,  so  debonnair,  so  wise, 
The  heart  of  Shah  Jahan  slept  in  her  lap  : 
Her  mouth  issued  the  King's  decrees,  her  hands 
Gave  provinces  away,  and  great  commands. 
No  night  but  at  her  feet  the  Emperor 
Laid  down  his  cap  of  Lordship  and  his  sword 
To  take  soft  counsel  from  her  faithful  lips. 
Which  many  grudged,  and  most  those  other  ones 
The  Afghan  Lady  —  she  that  hath  her  grave 
In  the  Kandhari  Bagh  —  and  Zan-i-Noor, 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  133 

Grandchild  of  Abdurrahim,  Prince  of  the  Blood : 
"  If  we  could  turn  His  Majesty,"  said  these, 
"  From  Mumtaz,  that  were  well  wrought  for  the  State, 
Whose  banner  is  become  a  Persian  shift ! 
Mashallah  !  will  naught  dull  those  dazzling  eyes  ?  " 
And  some  one  whispered :  "  Best  find  newer  eyes 
More  dazzling,  killing  passion  with  its  like ; 
Since  one  love-chamber  have  these  hearts  of  men, 
And  she  who  enters  thrusts  the  other  forth. 
There  is  that  slave-girl,  come  from  Jessulmere, 
A  brown  pearl  of  the  Prophet's  Paradise, 
Wondrously  fair  —  as  none  e'er  saw :  give  word 
They  deck  her  with  the  garments  of  Mumtaz, 
And  hang  the  Queen's  pearls  round  her  throat,  and 

bring 

The  Rajpootni  into  the  Queen's  own  room 
When  she  is  gone  —  so  may  my  Lord  the  King 
Be  tenderly  beguiled,  and  Mumtaz  scorned." 
And  this  the  Palace  Ladies  swore  was  good. 
SAHEB.     Surely,  't  was  perilous  ? 


134  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

MIRZA.  Hazrat !  the  girl 

Knew  —  for  they  told  her  —  she  must  die,  or  gain 
Life,  and  long  favor,  and  large  wealth  in  gold, 
At  moment  when  her  veil  should  drop,  and  show 
Full  moonlight  of  her  face.     To  reign,  see  you, 
First  in  that  Court,  to  win  the  eyes  of  him 
Who  ruled  upon  the  "Peacock-throne,"  and  stretched 
Hands  of  command  from  Balkh  to  Himalay, 
Was  worth  some  risk,  it  seemed,  of  fierce  farrash.1 
Therefore  —  half  willing,  half  constrained  —  she 

sate, 

Trembling,  upon  the  silks  of  Murntaz'  bed, 
In  vestments  of  the  beauteous  Queen,  her  face 
Wrapped  in  the  golden  chuddur.     Oh,  't  is  known 
What  fell,  because  a  Palace  maiden  heard  — 
Listening  outside  the  marble  j all- work  — 
And  told  it,  word  for  word,  to  Arjamand. 

DILAZAR.    Good  Mirza !  what  befell  ? 

MIRZA.  The  Sultan  came 

1  The  Executioner. 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  135 

Clad  in  his  private  dress  —  white  muslin  clasped 
With  one  great  pearl,  white  cap  and  jewelled  shoes  — 
And,  throwing  do\vn  his  scimitar  and  shawl, 
Spake  with  a  gentle  smile  :  "  Light  of  my  Life  ! 
Once  more  I  shut  the  great  loud  world  away 
And  come  to  reign  in  this  one  realm  I  love, 
The  heart  of  Mumtaz  !  "     Rose  the  Rajpootni, 
All  quaking  underneath  her  rich  disguise, 
And  bent  full  lowly  to  the  King  of  Hind, 
And  kissed  his  feet ;  —  then,  let  her  chuddur  fall, 
And  —  lo  !  it  was  not  Mumtaz  there !  his  Queen  ! 
But  that  strange,  lovely,  frightened  girl,  with  throat 
Heaving,  eyes  gleaming,  hands  on  bosom  clasped, 
Who  murmured  :  "  Lord  of  all  the  world  !  thy  slave 
Waiteth  thy  will  that  she  may  live  or  die." 

GDLBADAN.     Doubtless  he  drew  his  blade,  and  slew 
her  there ! 

SAHEB.     He  was  a  man,  't  is  writ,  of  gravity  ; 
Nice  in  his  pride,  terrible  in  his  wrath, 
I  shudder,  Mirza !  for  your  slave-maiden. 


136  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

MIRZA.   Good  Sir !  you  do  not  know  how  fair  she  was  ! 
Otherwise  who  had  ventured  ?     On  his  lips 
Ended  even  in  beginning  those  dread  words 
Which  leaped  from  royal  anger.     At  mid  rage 
The  charm  unspeakable  of  that  sweet  slave, 
The  glory  of  the  body  of  her  bare 
Melted  his  mounting  fury  !     Allah  makes 
Sometimes  a  face  and  form  to  smite  man's  soul 
With  witchery  of  subtlest  symmetry, 
And  she  was  such !     That  Lady  of  the  Taj 
Owned  not   such  lustrous  orbs,  nor   could   have 

shown 

Stature  so  cypress-like,  such  arms,  such  limbs, 
Such  eloquence  of  beauty,  touched  by  fear 
Into  bewitching  grace.     Nay  !  and  she  marked 
The  first  wrath  in  the  Sultan's  countenance 
Flicker  and  pass  as  flame  doth  pass  away 
When  rain  falls  on  the  sparkling  of  a  brand : 
So  gently  dropped  upon  his  mind  the  rain 
Of  wonder,  pity,  will  of  gentilesse  : 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  137 

And,  when  she  sank  upon  her  face,  and  sobbed, 

"  Lord  of  the  Age !  forgive  me  !  send  me  hence 

Alive  !     I  was  not  told  how  great  thou  art, 

How  terrible !  how  base  and  bold  my  deed ! " 

He  raised  the  Rajpoot  girl,  gazed  on  her  face 

With  softening  eyes,  and,  while  her  heart  beat  quick, 

Touched  —  with  strange  tremble  of  his  hands  —  her 

hair, 

Her  brows,  her  ears  :  then,  conquering  himself, 
Spake :  "  Get  thee  hence  alive  !     Fairest  thou  art 
Of  Allah's  works  ;  and  I  —  I  am  a  man, 
Albeit  Lord  of  men  and  Shah  Jahan ; 
Yet  one  thing  fairer  is  than  even  thou, 
And  sweeter  far  for  me  to  have  and  keep, 
The  faith  I  held  and  hold  to  her  whose  name 
Thou  art  not  meet  to  hear  !     Rajpootni !  see, 
I  close  mine  eyes,  not  longer  to  behold 
Thy  beauty,  lest  it  tempt  my  rebel  blood 
To  traitorousness  like  thine.     Begone  !  begone  ! 


138  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE    GARDEN; 

Before  I  look  again ;  for  I  shall  slay, 

Or  I  shall  love,  and  both  were  deeds  indign  ! " 

SAHEB.     Right  royal !  and  nowise  of  the  Mogul  type, 

« 

As  I  have  read.     What  next  befell  that  slave, 
With  respite  of  eye-wink  ? 

MIRZA.  She  glided  forth, 

Seeking  escape  ;  but  those  that  heard  the  words 
And  saw  all  done,  laid  hands  on  her  and  haled 
The  weeping  maid  to  angry  Arjamand, 
Decked  as  she  was  in  the  Queen's  cloth  of  gold, 
Wearing  the  Palace-pearls,  ungirt,  new-bathed, 
Painted,  and  henna-stained,  and  scented  sweet. 
They  told  what  passed,  and  how  the  Sultan  spake, 
She  cowering  at  the  proud  Sultana's  foot. 

DILAZAR.     Then  the  Queen  stabbed  her  to  the  heart- 
was  't  not  ? 
Straight  to  the  heart !  Wallah !  I  would  have  stabbed ! 

MIRZA.  Then  the  Queen  drew  the  dagger  from  her  waist, 
A  knife  of  watered  steel,  hafted  with  jade, 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  139 

And  on  the  hilt  a  ruby  worth  three  lakhs, 
Pigeon-blood  color,  marvellous,  the  gift 

Of  Shah  Jahan  in  some  soft  hour  of  love  — 

» 

An  unmatched  stone.    And,  when  they  looked  to  see 
The  keen  point  pierce  the  panting  satin  skin 
Stripped  of  its  veil  —  Arjamand  stooped  and  placed 
The  dagger-blade  beneath  her  sandal,  snapped 
The  bright  steel  short,  and,  drawing  near  to  hers 
That  Rajpoot's  face,  kissed  tenderly  her  mouth, 
And  gravely  spake  :  "  Go  !  thou  hast  given  me 
The  richest,  best,  last  gift  which  Earth  could  give 
In  comfort  of  my  great  Lord's  constancy. 
Take  thou  this  jewel  of  my  dagger,  Friend  !  — 
Nowise  its  point !  — and  a  Queen's  thanks  therewith 
For  treason  dearly  done  to  Arjamand ! " 

So  passed  the  Rajpoot,  rich  and  scatheless,  thence. 

SAHEB.     Sweeter  her  memory  seems  for  that  one  deed 
Of  loftiest  clemency  than  for  her  face 


140  WITH   SA'DI   IN   THE   GARDEN; 

Of  heavenly  charm,  or  for  her  sovereignties, 
Or  fame  or  tomb  !     How  think  you,  Gulbadan  ? 
GULBADAN.      My  Lord !  I  marvel,  and   admire !  but 

this 

Is  like  strange  golden  fruit  grown  on  tall  trees 
In  other  gardens  than  where  Nautchnees  live ! 
They  will  not  think  we  have  the  right  to  love 
Such  lovely  things  and  thoughts.     They  do  not  give 
Even  a  heart  to  us  whose  portion  is 
To  sing,  and  dance,  and  be  desirable, 
For  daily  bread.     Ask  Mirza  Hussein  else  ! 
The  Mohsinat,  the  women  who  are  wed, 
The  proud  and  happy  ones  with  faces  veiled, 
For  them,  born  on  the  lap  of  Rectitude, 
Is  comfort  here,  and  after  —  Paradise ; 
But  for  us  contumely  and  after  —  Hell. 
I  know  it,  for  the  Mollah  read  to  me 
Sura  the  Twenty-Fourth,  intituled  "  Light," 
And  therefore  't  is  not  meet  you  ask  of  us 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  141 

If  Arjamand  wrought  well :  only  I  feel 

One  might  do  queenly  deeds,  nurtured  a  queen. 

DILAZAR.     "Will  the  Saheb  think  none  but  a  queen 

doth  such? 

I  knew  a  singing-girl  with  soul  as  large 
As  Arjamand's,  if  I  might  tell  of  it. 

SAHEB.     Calamity  of  hearts  !     If  Hussein  please, 
Recite  your  story. 

DILAZAK.  Oh,  my  Lord  !  't  is  brief! 

We  journeyed  with  a  company  to  play 
Two  rains  ago ;  and  she  I  tell  you  of, 
Our  chiefest  singer,  took  the  road  with  us ; 
A  Bird  of  Women  —  pleasant,  patient,  bright, 
With  eyes  our  hard  lives  never  once  made  bold : 
A  common  girl  I  say  —  born  to  the  bells, 
But  gentle,  winsome,  so  that  wayfarers, 
Seeing  her  face,  would  cry :  "  God  go  your  Friend ! " 
"  Khudawand  Hafiz  !     Sister,  with  the  smile  ! " 
And  shy  things  of  the  jungle  and  the  grove 


142  WITH   SA'DI   IN   THE   GARDEN; 

Had  never  dread  of  her  —  crows,  mynas,  doves  — 

But  perked  and  pecked,  close  to  her  feet,  unfeared. 

So  fell  it  that  we  rested  on  our  path, 

Eating  and  drinking  by  a  forest-pool ; 

And  hard  by  camped  some  Brahmans,  pilgriming 

To  Muttra,  women,  children,  householders, 

Rich  folk  and  proud.     But  while  we  tarried  there  — 

Those  high-caste  people  holding  far  aloof 

From  taint  of  us  —  one  small  brown  baba  left 

Its  mother's  breast,  a  little  naked  maid 

Two  years  of  age,  maybe  :  wilful  she  crept 

Across  the  sand,  and  found  our  Singing-girl, 

And  nestled  to  her  heart,  cooing  soft  sounds, 

And  winding  in  between  her  arms,  the  way 

Young  birds  have  when  they  reach  the  wings  they  love. 

You  are  too  great  to  know  or  care  for  this, 

But  women  melt  to  touch  of  baby  hands, 

And  she  was  fondling,  lulling  this  soft  friend 

Who  knew  the  sweetness  of  her  soul  as  bees 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF  LOVE.  143 

Know  where  the  honey  hides  in  jungle-flowers, 
When  near  at  hand,  the  angry  mother  spied, 
And  ran,  and  snatched  her  babe  away,  and  screamed  : 
"  Poison  it  not,  thou  woman  of  bazaars ! 
With  thine  accursed  lips  and  arms  for  hire  ; 
Give  me  my  babe,  and  get  thee  to  thy  trade, 
Which  hath  no  good,  nor  grace  of  children's  love ! " 
And  we  were  wroth  and  would  have  fallen  on  them ; 
But  she,  the  Mild-faced,  laughed,  and  said, "  Let  be ! 
The  Brahman  mother  hath  much  right  to  scorn  !  " 

GULBADAN.     Sister !     I  cannot  think  the  Presences 
Will  care  to  hear. 

SAHEB.  Now,  Gulbadan,  be  still ! 

If  you  are  weary,  sleep  ! 

DILAZAR.  They  took  the  road  ; 

And  afterwards  we  followed,  when  the  Sun 
Made  longer  shadows.     At  a  lonely  spot 
Where  Imri  trees  grew  round  a  tank,  thick-set 
With  rocks,  and  one  white  Temple  by  the  tank  — 


144  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

Ill-named  for  savage  beasts,  a  place  of  fear  — 

We  hear  loud  cries.     The  Brahman  father  runs 

Shouting  to  those  with  us,  "  Ah,  Friends !  your  spears  ! 

Your  tulwars  1     Shiva,  Shiva  !  help  us,  help  !  " 

Then,  when  his  breath  was  fetched,  the  good  man  told  — 

Sorely  lamenting  —  how  his  wife  had  laid 

Her  sleeping  baby  in  that  Temple-yard 

While  at  the  tank  they  bathed ;  and  how,  half-washed, 

They  marked  a  great  gaunt  Tigress  from  the  wood 

Stalk  forth,  and  sniff  the  Temple-steps,  and  pass 

Into  the  Temple-court ;  and  there  she  couched 

Watching  the  infant  yet  asleep,  if  yet 

It  slept  in  that  most  dreadful  company, 

Since  none  could  sea  or  know  ;  nay,  all  were  fled 

For  life's  sake ;  only,  in  a  peepul  tree, 

Hard  by  the  shrine,  a  camel-man  had  climbed 

And  he  was  calling  "  Haste !  if  ye  would  aid  ! 

The  beast  is  not  yet  hungered,  and  she  plays, 

Licking  her  jowls,  curling  her  tail :  she  lies 


OB,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  145 

Eying  the  babe,  which  doth  not  move  !  oh,  haste  ! " 

SAHEB.     Note,  Gulbadan  !  how  well  this  tale  is  told  : 
Why  should  you  draw  your  sari  o'er  your  face  ? 
Are  you  not  trembling  for  the  pretty  maid  ? 
Would  God  I  had  been  there,  rifle  in  hand ! 

DILAZAR.      That  had  been  death,  Protector  of  the 

Poor! 

To  the  sleeping  child.     At  any  show  of  arms 
The  beast  had  leaped  upon  the  prey  it  watched 
Across  that  Temple-court.     There  was  one  hope  — 
To  come  between  the  Tigress  and  the  child 
Before  its  mood  changed,. while  it  surmised  still 
Some  trap,  some  mischief  in  its  sleeping  food  — 
This  we  knew,  and  the  Singing-girl,  and  all ; 
But  how  to  come  ? 

GULBADAN.  Why  will  you  still  go  on, 

Dear  Dilazar  ? 

MIRZA.  The  peril  frightens  her ; 

It  troubles  me  ! 

10 


146  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

SAHEB.  Nay  !  but  the  way  to  save 

That  helpless  child  ?    I  cannot  find  a  way  ! 

DILAZAR.    This  common  woman  could!  I  heard  her  say, 
"  The  baby  is  my  baby  of  the  morn 
Who  wound  its  arms  about  my  neck,  and  Tdssed 
My  mouth  with  innocent  lips  !     See !  I  will  go 
And  take  my  friend  forth  from  the  Tiger's  mouth, 
If  God  shall  please  !    And  if  He  shall  not  please 
Why,  't  is  a  Singing-girl  the  brute  will  eat, 
And  not  that  tender  one,  born  to  live  pure  !  " 
So,  ere  a  hand  could  stay  her,  she  had  drawn 
The  sari  tight  between  her  knees,  and  walked, 
With  those  kind  eyes  fixed  hard  upon  the  beast, 
Straight  to  the  spot  —  had  stooped  —  had  gathered 

close 

The  silent  child  against  that  heart  which  beat 
Fearless  of  fear  —  had  reached  the  steps  again, 
Steadfastly  eying  always  those  fierce  eyes 
That  glared  and  sparkled,  blazing  rage  and  dread  ; 
Her  face  always  full-turned  to  that  fell  face 


OR,  THE  BOOK   OF  LOVE.  147 

Cushioned  upon  spread  paws,  yet  stirring  not ; 
For,  Sirs !  as  God  is  God,  the  love  of  it, 
The  greatness  of  it,  and  the  suddenness  — 
Which,  as  I  do  perceive,  hold  now  your  minds  — 
Lay  on  "that  snarling,  bristling  beast  of  blood, 
A  spell  and  wonder  which  it  could  not  burst 
For  all  the  savage  pantings  of  its  strength  : 
And  she  had  gained  the  porch,  the  outer  steps, 
Ere,  with  a  roar  as  when  the  thunder  cracks 
A  black-bound  cloud,  mad  to  be  free  and  safe 
From  the  sweet  terror  of  those  mastering  eyes, 
The  Tigress  bounded  through  the  air  —  a  flash 
Of  living  lightning  —  passed  the  porch,  one  claw 
Striking  the  girl,  tearing  her  choli  down, 
But  oh  !  a  skin-wound  only  !  for  the  beast 
Sought  quick  escape  ;  and  safe  she  came  to  us 
Clasping  the  babe,  red  with  her  gentle  blood ; 
And  so  the  mother  took  her  infant  back 
A  gift  from  the  Bazaar-girl ! 


148  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

SAHEB.  Gulbadan  — 

As  we  may  judge  from  her  averted  head  — 
Hardly  believes  you ! 

DILAZAR.  Well !  she  doubts  herself 

If  she  doubts  that  bold  deed.     Look,  Sirs  !  I  turn 
The  choli  from  her  shoulder !  there 's  the  seal 
The  Tigress  stamped  upon  it  —  for  't  was  she  ! 

[Both  the  men  rise,  and  make  salutation  to  GULBADAN.] 

MIBZA.     Afrin  !  0  Girl !  an  old  man  honors  thee  ! 
While  I  have  thought  to  play  the  teacher  here, 
Reciting  Ishk,  and  all  our  Sufic  lore, 
And  how  men  pass  from  low  to  high,  and  learn 
From  Love  to  conquer  love  of  self,  and  come 
Nearer  to  Him,  the  Friend,  who  is  Love's  self, 
Here  is  a  Singing-girl  turns  my  last  page 
And  teacheth  Sa'di !     Gulbadan !  Salaam  ! 

SAHEB.     Dear  Gulbadan  !  brave,  loving  Gulbadan ! 


OB,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  149 

Salaam !  if  Agra  only  owns  the  thing, 

Or  has  a  sonar  working  worthily, 

You  shall  have  such  an  armlet  for  that  arm  — 

Which  bears  its  red  wound  like  a  Rose  of  God  — 

Of  tiger-claws  set  in  fine  gold,  to  make 

The  whole  gay  taifah  envious  of  you ! 

Is  't  true  ?  did  those  eyes  stare  a  Tigress  down  ? 

Did  that  brown  satin  wrist  and  little  hand 

Forbid  the  man-eater  her  bloody  meal  ? 
GDLBADAN.     I  did  it,  Saheb  !  for  the  baby's  sake 

Who  loved  me  so,  unasked.     It  was  not  hard  ! 

I  was  afraid  —  the  beast  was  more  afraid  ! 

It  would  have  leaped,  but  had  not  time  to  think. 
SAHEB.     I  think,  if  Arjamand  and  Shah  Jahan 

Walked  in  their  Garden  —  as  we  said  —  to-night, 

The  Queen  would  give  another  such  a  gem 

As  that  great  ruby  of  the  hilt,  to  you  ! 

And  if  the  Sultan  heard  this  Ishk  with  us, 

I  think   that    he   would    say,  "Where    in    my 
Hind 


150  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Is  he  had  done  for  manhood  and  for  me  — 
Though  he  knew  Sa'di  as  wise  Hussein  knows  — 
What  for  a  baby's  kiss  your  Singing-girl 
Did  and  forgot,  till  Dilazar's  light  tongue 
Fetched  the  sweet  truth  forth,  as  the  honey-bird 
Pecks  nectar  from  the  tight-shut  trumpet  flower  ?  " 
Right-learned  Friend !  is  not  this  also  Love 
As  true  as  Majnun's  ? 

MIRZA.  Yea,  Sir  !  Love  to  praise  ! 

To  ponder,  worship,  wonder  at,  and  thank  — 
By  the  perspicuous  Book  !  —  for  nobleness 
Which  yields  us  high  example,  and  makes  plain 
Life  is  a  little  gift  when  Love  bids  "  give  ! " 

DILAZAR.     Oh,  Sister !  hanging  down  your  head  for 

shame 

Like  yonder  rose  heavy  with  early  dew, 
To  hear  these  Presences  !     Now  is  your  face 
Made  white,  shy  Rose !  but  I  —  if  I  have  leave  — 
Will  be  your  Bulbul,  since  there  comes  to  mind 
A  little  song  Lord  Sa'di  made  for  this. 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  151 

[DiLAZAR  sings.] 

A  Drop  of  Rain  was  falling  from  forth  a  summer  cloud, 
It  saw  the  ocean  under  it  roll  billows  large  and  loud  ; 
And,  all-ashamed  and  sore-dismayed,  it  whispered 

"  Woe  is  me  ! 
By  Allah !  I  am  naught !  what  counts  one  Rain-drop 

to  the  Sea  ?  " 

But  while  it  mocked  and  mourned  itself — for  little- 
ness forlorn  — 

Into  a  sea-shell's  opened  lips  the  Drop  of  Rain  was 
borne, 

Where  many  a  day  and  night  it  lay,  until  at  last  it  grew 

A  lovely  Pearl  of  lucent  ray,  faultless  in  form  and  hue  ; 

And  God  our  Lord,  who  knoweth  best  how  sea-fish 
make  His  gem, 

Caused  those  that  dive  to  bring  it  up ; — so  in  the  diadem 

Of  Persia's  King  they  set  that  Pearl,  and  so  the  Rain- 
drop came 

To  be  a  Sultan's  pride  and  wealth,  a  Jewel  of  great 
name  ! 


152  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

In  that  it  fell,  for  loftiness  that  Rain-drop  was  de- 
signed ; 

It  rose  to  majesty  and  worth,  because  of  modest  mind  ! 

0  Sa'di !  here  thou  singest  sooth!  Who  waits  at 
Door  of  Fate 

With  lowly  heart  and  humble  voice  finds  unexpected 
state. 

MIRZA.     True,  Friends !  it  is  not  station,  birth,  nor 

wealth, 
Nor  power,  nor  learning  lends  us  grace  to  grow 

A  Pearl  upon  the  Neck-string  of  the  Friend ! 
And  this  next  lesson  will  the  Ishk  impart : 


[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

They  mocked  the  Sovereign  of  Grhaznin :  one  saith, 
"  Ayaz  hath  no  great  beauty,  by  my  faith  ! 

A  Rose  that's  neither  rosy-red  nor  fragrant, 
The  BulbuTs  love  for  such,  astonisheth!" 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  153 

This  went  to  Mahmud's  ears  ;  ill-pleased  he  sate, 
Sowed  on  himself,  reflecting :  then  to  that 

Replied :  "  My  love  is  for  his  kindly  nature. 
Not  for  his  stature,  nor  his  face,  nor  state  !  " 

And  I  did  hear  how,  in  a  rocky  dell, 
Bursting  a  chest  of  gems  a  camel  fell: 

King  Mahmudivaved  his  sleeve,  permitting  plunder, 
But  spurred  his  own  steed  onward,  as  they  tell. 

His  horsemen  parted  from  their  Lord  amain, 
Eager  for  pearls,  and  corals,  and  such  gain  : 

Of  all  those  neck-exalting  courtiers 
None  except  Ayaz  near  him  did  remain. 

The  King  looked  back  —  "  How  many  hast  thou  won, 
Curled  comfort  of  my  heart  ?  "     He  answered  "  None  I 

I  galloped  up  the  pass  in  rear  of  thee  ; 
I  quit  thee  for  no  pearls  beneath  the  sun  !  " 


154  WITH   SA'DI   IN   THE   GARDEN; 

Oh,  if  to  Grod  thou  hast  propinquity  y 
For  no  wealth  heedless  of  His  service  be  ! 

If  Lovers  true  of  Grod  shall  ask  from  Grod 
Aught  except  Grod,  that 's  infidelity  ! 

If  thine  eyes  fix  on  any  gift  of  Friend 
Thy  gain,  not  his,  is  thy  desire's  end  I 

If  thy  mouth  gape  in  avarice,  Heaven's  message 
Unto  Heart's  ear  by  that  road  shall  not  wend  ! 

SAHEB.     I  see  it  is  not  willed  that  Love  should  gain, 
Nor  pay  itself  with  pleasure,  nor  sit  soft 
On  this  world's  carpets,  drinking  wine  of  ease. 
But,  all  in  drawing  closer  to  the  "  Friend  " 
(Your  Sufic  word)  —  the  Cup-bearer  —  forego 
Those  passing  pearls  and  corals  of  Life's  chance, 
The  plunder  of  the  camel's  broken  chest, 
For  glory  of  far  greater  joys,  for  bliss 
Of  sacrifice,  for  ecstasy  of  death 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  155 

Which  buys  for  the  Beloved  life,  for  meed 

To  hear  the  Sultan  of  all  Sultans  say, 

"  Curled  Darling  of  my  heart !  "  as  He  shall  say 

To  those  who  rode  near  to  His  Flag  of  Love 

All  through  Earth's  gloomy  pass,  unwavering, 

Disdaining  profit.     Learned  Mirza  !  so 

Your  Ishk  comes,  by  its  Persian  road  of  palms 

And  nightingales,  and  roses,  and  soft  verse, 

To  that  same  Syrian  Hill  whose  slopes  austere 

Heard  our  Lord  Isa  speak  :  "  I  say  to  you 

Love  ye  your  enemies  !    Be  in  your  love 

Perfect,  as  is  your  Father  Who  is  Love  ! 

Take  no  thought  for  your  life  :  the  Kingdom  first ! 

God's  Kingdom  first !  G-od's  righteousness  !  and  then 

Other  things  shall  be  added  !  "     And,  it  comes  — 

Your  Sufic  Ishk,  with  "  Cup  "  and  "  Cup-bearer," 

Down  all  these  garden-paths  —  to  that  green  tree 

Whereunder  sate  my  Buddha,  when  he  taught 

Ahinsa,  and  the  Law  of  Love  and  Peace, 


156  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

The  "  Noble  Truths"  and  high  Nirvana's  word. 
Only,  I  find  not  that  your  Prophet  prized 
This  doctrine  of  the  all-embracing  Love, 
Gentle  to  enemies,  submissive,  sweet, 
Foregoing,  and  forgiving :  seeking  bliss 
In  gift,  and  gain  by  loss,  contemning  self, 
Heedless  of  safety  in  the  lust  to  save, 
Like  our  good  Gulbadan,  who  from  that  beast 
Redeemed  imperiously  the  babe  she  loved, 
Terrible  in  her  tenderness  of  heart, 
Stronger  than  death  —  all  by  Love's  sorcery, 
The  Jadoo  of  your  Ishk  ! 
MIRZA.  Allah  assoil 

The  boldness  of  thy  tongue,  dear  Friend !  there  lacks 

Nothing  hereof  to  the  Perspicuous  Book : 

But  when  our  Lord  (on  whom  be  peace  !)  received 

JibrjUl's  message,  't  was  to  his  own  race  — 

The  lean,  fierce,  desert-seasoned  Bedaween  — 

This  came  ;  and  it  was  very  meet  God's  word 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  157 

Should  fall  in  thunder  on  their  ears,  not  songs  ; 

Should  scourge  to  rightf  ulness  with  Hell's  khamseen, 

Not  lure  them  thither  with  sweet  airs  of  Heaven. 

And,  for  the  rest,  our  holy  Koran  saith  : 

"  Allah  hath  given  to  every  land  its  Book, 

Its  Prophet  to  each  people." 
SAHEB.  Ah !  your  Hell  — 

Al-Zakkum's  ghastly  fruit !  the  "  Shoes  of  flame  "  ! 

Al  Hotama,  where  sinful  Christians  roast ! 

How  fits  th'  Eternal  Love,  the  "Friend,"  with  those t 
MIRZA.     Tola  !  Saheb,  tola  !  Ibn-us-Sammak  spake 

The  master-word  hereon  :  "  Fear  God,  O  Man  ! 

As  though  not  once  thou  hadst  obeyed  His  word  ; 

And  trust  the  Love  of  God,  0  Man !  as  though 

Thou  never  once  hadst  disobeyed  His  laws !  " 
SAHEB.    But  why  make  bloody  tigers  and  sly  snakes  ? 

The  evil  things  and  ugly  of  this  Earth  ? 

What  place  have  such,  if  all  is  God  and  Love  ? 
MIRZA.    Tigers  are  not  so  murderous  as  men 


158  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Arrayed  in  battle,  or  by  hate  inflamed ; 

Nor  snakes  as  sly  and  deadly.     For  ill-looks 

Each  to  his  kind  shows  fair.     We  have  heard  here 

Your  Mollahs  of  the  West  hold  Adam's  sons 

Sprung  of  the  Sea-slug,  and,  by  apish  sires, 

Down  through  slow  shapings  of  the  bone  and  brain, 

Developed  from  the  savage  to  the  sage ; 

So  might  you,  surely,  with  more  patience  wait 

Fixed  working-out  of  steadfast  primal  plans 

In  beast  and  serpent,  poison-bag  and  fang ! 

For  us  it  is  enough  that  Allah's  will 

Found  them  their  place  and  purpose  in  His  World  ; 

And  't  is  of  this  the  Ishk  now  witnesseth : 

{The  MIRZA  reads.] 

Philosophy  goes  many  a  winding  road, 

Now  here  she  turns  —  now  there  —  on  ways  re-trod  ; 

For  Lovers  of  the  Friend  straight  leads  the  pathway, 
They  see  and  know  and  seek  nothing  save  God  ! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  159 

This  is  a  plain  thing  unto  all  with  eyes, 
But  Doctors  of  Dispute  hold  otherwise  : 

"  The  Sky  and  Earth"  they  ask, "  the  sons  of  Adam, 
Birds,  Beasts,  and  Snakes,  how  wilt  thou  such  comprise  ?" 

Yea  !  Ahl-i-Kiyds  !  learned  masters,  yea  ! 
^Tis  an  approved  knot  this  which  ye  say  : 

If  answer  be  permitted,  Sa'di  answers, 
"  He  is  in  all  things,  and  by  Him  are  they  ; 

"  The  plains,  the  seas,  the  mountain,  and  the  mist, 
Men,  Paris,  Angels,  Jinns  —  all  that  subsist, 
All,  whatsoever  is,  lives  comprehended  ; 
Only  by  His  existing  these  exist. 

"Huge  rolls  the  sea  —  we  know  —  in  foam  and  spray 
Under  our  feet,  with  dreadful  waves  at  play  ; 
Bright  climbs  to  topmost  of  the  firmament 
The  broad  and  blinding  Sun,  Sultan  of  Day. 


160  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE  GARDEN; 

"  Yet,  if  ye  deem  them  something  outside  Him, 
Then  are  ye  *  Peoples  of  the  Picture  ! '     Dim 

Your  lamps  gleam  !  never  will  ye  find  a  passage 
To  that  far  other  Land  where  Seraphim 

"  And  Lords  of  Truth  sit  saying :  l  Yon  gold  Sun, 
It  is  not  of  His  smallest  treasures  one  ! 

Yon  Ocean,  seven  times  folded,  if  He  willed  it, 
Exhales,  like  dew-drop  in  the  noon  undone  ! ' 

"  Oh,  when  the  Sultan  of  all  State  appears, 
And  Royal  Banner  of  the  real  Life  rears, 

This  world  into  the  neck  of  Non-existence 
Draws  head,  as  when  a  tortoise  footsteps  fears  !  " 

MIRZA.     And  this  our  Lord  will  still  exemplify. 

{The  MIRZA  reads.] 

The  Rais  of  a  village,  with  his  son, 
Encountered  on  a  certain  road  alone, 


OR,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  l6l 

The  main-guard  of  a  monarch's  army  marching, 
A  myriad  pacing  with  the  step  of  one. 

Marvelling  the  boy  beheld  the  pioneers, 
With  swords  and  battle-axes  ;  halberdiers, 

Heralds  and  scouters  ;  glistering  shirts  of  satin, 
Waist-cloths  of  gold,  horse-trappings,  shields  and  spears; 

Ranks  of  fierce  fighting-men,  bearing  the  bow  ; 
And  after  them  those  that  with  quivers  go 

Furnishing  shafts  ;  a  blaze  of  bright  silk  yonder, 
And  here  a  King's  cap  in  the  glorious  show  : 

Which  pomp  and  splendor  watching  —  when  he  turned 
To  speak  the  joy  wherewith  his  young  blood  burned, 

Lo  !  the  exceeding  meanness  of  his  Father  ! 
At  that  loud  storm  of  war  sorely  concerned 

The  old  man's  mien  was  changed,  his  color  fled, 
His  heart  made  water  ;  and,  with  fear  half -dead, 


162  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Into  a  cave  he  hied.     The  Son  inquired, 
"Art  thou  not  Rais,  as  the  folks  have  said? 

"  Chief  of  our  Tribe,  and  by  such  chieftaincy 

Named  with  the  great  ones  ?     What  hath  come  to  thee, 

To  snap  the  staff  of  manhood,  and  with  terror 
To  tremble  like  a  wind-torn  willow-tree  ?  " 

The  Sire  replied:  "Yea!  truly  lam  chief, 
And  of  the  great  —  at  home  ;  but  this  belief 
G-oeth  not  past  our  village  !  "  — 

Even  likewise 
The  mightiest  are  overwhelmed  with  awe  and  grief 

Who  come  upon  the  march  of  God  the  King. 
Oh,  thou  of  mortal  sort !  why  should  it  bring 

Pride  to  thy  soul  to  rule  in  this  world's  village  ? 
Thy  state  and  greatness  is  a  little  thing! 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  163 

SAHEB.     Truly  a  little  thing  !     See  where  we  sit 
In  this  fair  Garden  with  its  milk-white  Tomb 
Gleaming  behind  the  palms,  and  those  great  Dead 
Whose  joy  it  was,  who  ruled  the  spacious  land, 
Lie  out  of  sight  under  two  narrow  slabs, 
Forgot,  unseen  —  the  Sultan  and  his  Love  — 
Arjamand  Banu  Begam,  Shah  Jahan, 
Two  basketsful  of  dust  and  crumbled  bones ! 

MIRZA.     Yes,  that  hath  solemness,  if  we  did  look 
Not  farther  than  to  trivial  circumstance 
Of  death,  and  dust,  and  darkness  of  the  grave  ; 
And  common  is  the  homily  thereon; 
Even  Sa'di  hath  this  skull-verse  I  recall : 

[The  MIRZA  recites.'] 

Say  not  Sultans  are  mighty  !    think  not  largely  of 

thrones ! 
The  realm  of  the  beggar  is  safer  than  the  kingdoms  of 

diademed  ones  : 


1 64  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

The  lighter  the  wallet  is  loaded  the  farther  the  traveller 

goes; 
And  the  crown  is  a  heavier  headgear  than  felt,  as  a 

Darweesh  knows. 

The  woe  of  a  Darweesh  is  measured  by  his  want  of  an 

oaten  crust ; 
On  the  heart  of  a  King  sit  always  his  Empire's  toil  and 

trust. 

When  the  Darweesh  has  munched  at  sunset  his  hunk 

of  yesterday's  bread, 
He  sleeps  in  his  rags  more  sweetly  than  the  King  on  a 

golden  bed. 

Be  grieved  for  whoso  ruleth,  and  pity  his  sorrowful  fate ! 
The  beggar  is  verily  monarch,  though  he  hides  with 
a  clout  his  state. 

I  heard  it  told  of  a  Darweesh,  long  ago,  in  a  distant 

land, 
How  a  skull  spake  these  words  to  him,  as  he  held  the 

thing:  in  his  hand : 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  165 

"  The  pomp  of  the  giving  of  orders,  and  the  power  to 

save  and  to  slay, 
Were  mine ;  and  a  turban  of  greatness  on  the  brow 

which  is  bone  to-day. 

"  God's  will  and  the  glory  of  battle  brought  harvest  to 

edge  of  my  sword  ; 
I  was  King  of  the  two  great  Rivers,  I  was  Babylonia's 

Lord: 

"  I  had  in  my  heart  the  purpose  to  seize  Karamania's 

plain  ! — 
When  lo  !  —  in  the  wink  of  an  eyelid  —  the  worms 

were  eating  my  brain  !  "  — 

From  the  Ear  of  Wisdom,  Darweesh !  the  Cotton  of 

Carelessness  pluck, 
That  counsel  of  dead  men,  Darweesh !  may  bring  thee, 

by  lowliness,  luck. 

SAHEB.     Your  own  glad  Poet,  then,  touched  strings  so 
sad? 


1 66  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

MIRZA.     Sir !  he  wrote  thus.     But  whoso  deems  life 

ends 

With  what  a  skull  saith,  and  the  wormy  talk 
Of  mortal  minutes  finished,  wotteth  not 
Of  inner  times  unfolding,  and  large  days 
Beyond  our  dawns,  and  Beauty  beautified 
Past  Arjamand,  past  Laila  and  Majnun. 
They  who  take  hopelessness  for  truth,  and  sit 
On  carpet  of  Resignment,  looking  not 
Except  for  Death  to  undo  Life's  slow-wove  web, 
Ravelling  the  pattern  —  toilsome,  finished,  rich  — 
Just  when  God's  shuttle  shot  the  last  thread  home, 
Are  like  those  apes  which  caught  a  fire-fly 
And  laid  it  'neath  green  sticks,  and  blew,  and  blew, 
Hoping  to  kindle  light.     See  there  !  't  is  full  — 
Yon  cypress-top,  the  Tree  of  gloom  —  with  sparks 
Born  of  the  swamp  and  the  wan  water  !     Look  ! 
Should  one  take  those  pale  fluttering  specks  for  stars  ? 
And  hear  how  Sa'di  mocketh  them  !  he  saith : 


OB,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  l6/ 

[The  MIBZA  reads.'] 

In  mead  or  grove,  by  night,  oft  hast  thou  seen 
The  fire-fly  wave  his  lamp  of  glittering  green  : 

Once  some  one  said,"  Oh,  Fly!  lamping  the  darkness, 
What  makes  it  that  thy  kind  hath  never  been 

"  Spied  in  the  day-time  ?  "     Mark  what  ansiver  wise 
That  little  marsh-born  thing,  with  fiery  eyes, 
Crave  from  its  mouth  of  luminosity  !  — 
"  Wherever  waters  spread,  and  dank  leaves  rise, 

"  We  range,  day-time  and  night-time  ;  but  the  Sun 
Puts  out  our  gleam  :  till  his  great  race  is  run 
Our  feeble  beams  are  nowhere  manifest ; 
The  darkness  kindles  them,  when  night 's  begun  !  " 

SAHEB.    Yet,  Mirza !  men  will  press  that  Death  is  Death, 
Painful  and  hateful,  ending  tender  Love  ; 


1 68  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

That  Beauty,  like  the  rose,  drops  her  sweet  leaves, 
And  eyes  of  youth,  which  saw  Heaven's  smile  therein, 
Grow  dim  and  hopeless ;  and  ten  thousand  ills 
Palsy  the  heart's  wings  mounting  hopefullest : 
Till,  at  the  last  —  whether  we  pile  on  it 
A  mountain  of  snow-marble,  like  this  Taj, 
Or  clay  on  clay  —  here  lies  the  sum  of  all 
Arjamand,  dead  in  child-bed,  dust  and  bones  ! 
Her  Sultan,  crownless,  fleshless,  good  to  make 
Pipkins  for  potters  !     Ah,  the  bitterness ! 
MIRZA.     What  «  bitterness  "  ?    What  «  sum  "  ?     Did 

men  complain, 

Waiting  so  long  and  still  in  the  safe  womb, 
Before  the  Maker's  scheme  gave  them  glad  birth 
And  resurrection  into  present  life, 
With  roses,  and  delights,  and  lips  and  songs, 
So  dear  to  have  you  cannot  brook  to  lose  ? 
Oh,  Allah !  pardon  men,  who  are  as  babes 
That  will  not  open  hands  to  clasp  Thy  hand 


OR,   THE   BOOK   OF   LOVE.  169 

Lest  they  unclasp  the  play-things  given  them 

To  make  the  sunlight  sweet  'twixt  sleep  and  sleep  ! 

Listen  once  more  to  Sa'di,  teaching  peace  : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

A  tumult  in  a  Syrian  town  had  place  ; 

They  seized  an  old  man  there  of  wit  and  grace  ; 

Still  in  my  ear  lingers  his  noble  saying, 
When,  fettered  fast,  they  smote  him  on  the  face  : 

Quotha :  "  If  of  all  Sultans  the  Sultan 
drives  not  the  word  for  plunder,  who  else  can? 

Who,  save  upon  His  bidding,  would  be  bold 
To  do  such  deeds?     Therefore  I  hold  the  man, 

"  That  wrongs  me,  not  mine  enemy  but  friend  ; 
God  hath  appointed  him  unto  this  end! 

If  there  fall  scorn  or  honor,  gifts  or  shackles, 
'Tis  God  —  not  Zayd  or  Omar  —  who  doth  send"  — 


170  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Right,  Sheykh !  no  griefs  the  wise  heart  will  annoy  ; 
The  G-reat  Physician  sharp  drugs  doth  employ  ! 

A  sick  man '«  not  more  skilful  than  his  Hdkim  ; 
Take  what  the  ^Friend  gives  as  a  bliss  and  joy. 

SAHEB.     Good  !  if  we  knew,  as  this  calm  ancient  knew, 
All  things  from  Him ! 

MIRZA.  How  were  it  otherwise  ? 

Or,  have  you  thought  the  stars  and  worlds  are  left, 
The  angels,  and  the  jinns,  and  men  —  those  least 
Last  creatures  of  the  Universe,  yet  lodged 
In  palace  of  this  wondrous  Earth,  roofed  o'er 
With  sapphire,  and  with  emerald  pavemented  — 
To  Shaitan,  to  Azazil  ?     If  the  worm 
Will  wrap  itself  in,  self-made  shroud  of  silk, 
Glad  to  quit  being,  sure  of  life  to  come, 
Trusting  the  secret  promise  of  the  hours 
To  bring  it  wings  of  cream  and  gold,  and  feasts 
Of  blossoms  brimmed  with  honey  ;  if  she-bears 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  171 

Have  love  enough  for  their  shagged  cubs  to  dash 
Careless  upon  the  spear-blade  —  shall  not  we 
Have  sense  and  grace  to  wait  for  Him  to  give 
Who  giveth  all,  to  trust  the  Cup-bearer 
Whatever  wine  He  pour  ? 

DILAZAR.  Most  learned  one  ! 

Is  it  taught  true  that,  when  Believers  die, 
The  spirits  of  them  dwell  in  green  birds'  crops 
Under  the  Throne,  until  the  Trumpet  blows  ? 

MIRZA.     The  birds  are  milk-white,  Daughter!     Yet 

who  knows 

Of  Al-Berzakh,  and  of  the  bone  Al  Ajb 
Wherefrom  all  spring  anew  ?    Have  thou  in  mind 
How  when  our  Lord  the  Prophet  (on  his  tomb 
Shine  Allah's  light !)  questioned  Jibrail's  self 
Of  this,  and  of  the  "  Blast  of  Summoning," 
The  holy  Angel  answered,  "  Times  and  signs 
We  wot  not !     Allah  wotteth  ! "     And,  hear  now 
What  Sa'di  saith  of  God's  sufficiency  : 


1/2  WITH  SA'DI  IX  THE  GARDEN; 

[The  MIRZA  reads.'] 

A  Prince  praised  So/id,  ZangPs  Son :  quoth  he, 
"  Much  mercy  on  his  tomb-stone  may  there  be  ! 

Dirhams  I  gave  him,  and  a  dress  of  honor, 
And  kept  for  him  a  seat  of  dignity. 

"  But  on  my  robe  of  honor  when  he  read 
'  Allah  wa  has '  writ  large  in  golden  thread, 

With  sudden  heat  he  plucked  that  garment  from  him, 
And  such  flame  caught  his  spirit  that  he  fled 

"  Into  the  waste.     One  of  the  Desert-breed 
Asked, i  Said,  Son  of  Zangi  !  what  didst  read 

Worked  on  the  khiUat,  that,  in  act  to  worship 
Thou  shouldst,  with  rude  heel,  on  the  good  gift  tread? ' 

"  He  laughed  and  answered :  1 1  was  over-fraught 
With  pride  at  first ;  but  when  I  saiv  that  wrought 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  1/3 

"  GOD  is  ENOUGH  !  "  upon  the  gilded  silk, 
I  did  remember  all  the  rest  was  naught?  " 

SAHEB.     Noble  thy  scroll  is,  Mirza !  strange  to  muse 
This  Sa'di  fought  our  soldiers  of  the  Cross 
In  old  days  for  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
At  Askalon,  and  Lebanon  !     How  mad 
Are  nations'  quarrels  !  righteous  work,  forsooth, 
For  Heaven  and  Christ  that  Red-Cross  Knight  had 

wrought, 

Who  should  have  cloven  brain  with  such  rhymes  rich, 
Or  driven  blundering  consecrated  lance 
Through  such  a  Paynim's  heart. 

MIRZA.  Doubt  thou  not,  Sir ! 

He  battled,  as  he  teacheth,  valiantly : 
'T  is  told  he  thrice  set  free  a  Nazarene  — 
Unhorsed,  and  helpless  at  his  dagger's  point  — 
Ere  he  was  made  a  slave  at  Tripoli. 

[GULBADAN  starts  and  cries  aloud :] 


174  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

GULBADAN.     Ta  All !  help  me,  help  ! 

SAHEB.  What  is  it  ? 

MIBZA.  Girl ! 

KMda  lad  na  dihad  ! l    What  aileth  ? 
GULBADAN.  Oh ! 

I  thought  a  scorpion  crept  beneath  my  cloth  ! 

Some   winged  thing  'twas   flew  in  my  neck:  'tis 
naught ! 

Pardon  me,  Sirs ! 
SAHEB.  Our  sweet-voiced  Gulbadan, 

Who  did  not  dread  the  tiger's  blazing  eyes, 

Screams  at  a  moth  !     When  shall  we  ever  learn 

This  book  of  man  ? 
MIRZA.  It  came  for  love  of  flame 

Into  the  burning  lamp :  nay,  Dilazar ! 

Kill  it  not  I  't  is  a  creature,  too,  of  God, 

And  flutters  towards  the  light,  like  us :  I  mind 

A  little  ghazal  which  doth  bid  thee  spare : 

1  God  send  thee  no  evil. 


OK,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  175 

[The  MIRZA  recites.] 

Who  is  so  small  but,  when  he  suffers,  sighs  ? 
Who  is  so  great  but  mercy  dignifies  ? 

Shibli,  from  grain  bazaar,  upon  his  back 
With  toilsome  steps  took  home  a  loaded  sack  ; 

Arrived  —  a  red  Ant  in  the  wheat  he  spied, 
Her  troubled  feet  running  from  side  to  side. 

"  I  to  my  house,  and  thou  to  thine ! "  quoth  he ; 
"  Testify  at  the  Judgment  this  of  me  ! " 

For  pity  of  her  woe  all  that  long  way, 
He  bore  her  to  her  people  of  the  clay  : 

And  Firdausi  this  gentle  verse  did  make, 

"  Peace  be  to  his  pure  Tomb  for  that  Ant's  sake  ! " 

DILAZAR.     Sir  !  I  have  sent  it  free,  the  spotted  moth  ! 
If  I  sate  many  nights  in  your  Bostan 


176  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

I  think  I  should  grow  good  and  wise  ;  but  look ! 
The  Wolf's   Tail  sweeps   the   sky,  soon  'twill  be 

dawn! 
MIRZA.     Yes,  we  must  finish  !      And   the  fluttering 

moth 

Is  Sa'di's  image  now  of  Love  which  lives 
Faithful  unto  the  end  in  trust  of  Love : 


[The  MIRZA  reads.} 

Hear  what  the  little  soft-winged  Moth  replied, 
Fluttering  around  the  lamp-flame,  ere  he  died, 

To  one  who  said :  "  Creature  contemptible  ! 
Some  Mistress  choose  to  thine  own  kind  allied, 

"  Some  road  of  Love,  which  holds  forth  hope,  pursue, 
Thou  and  thy  Wick's  embraces  !     What 's  to  do 

Betwixt  ye  ?  Whence  and  whither  such  mad  passion 
Burnest  thou?     Ay!  and  candle  burneth,  too! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  177 

"  Thou  art  not  a  Samundar  to  pass  free 
Mid  scorching  coals  ;  let  the  hot  lantern  be  ! 

Since  Sense  comes  first,  and  after  Sacrifice  ; 
And  blind  bats  leave  the  Sun  to  such  as  see. 

"  Vainly  against  a  stronger  force  we  strive  ; 
And  foolish  'tis  in  gentilesse  to  live 

With  those  declared  our  enemies  !    Who  taught  thee 
'Ttvas  right  thy  being  for  her  beams  to  give  ? 

"  Hast  thou  not  heard  how,  once,  a  Beggar  wooed 
The  daughter  of  a  King,  and  boldly  sued 

To  wed  her  ;  and  the  pushings  on  his  neck 
Hoiv  hard  they  were  ;  the  blows  how  sore  and  rude  ? 

"  A  lover  like  to  thee  ivhy  should  she  bring 
Into  heart's  count,  when  Agha,  Mirza,  King 

Turn  their  great  faces  towards  her  for  their  light? 
In  such  high  company  think  no  vain  thing 

12 


178  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

"  That  she  can  show  thee  tenderness  !     G-ood  lack  ! 
Tender  she  might  be  to  the  general  pack, 

But  thou  art  of  the  helpless  ones  !  thy  softness 
With  scorn  consuming  she  will  pay  thee  back." 

Listen  what  answer  made  the  ardent  Moth  :  — 
"  No  matter  if  I  burn,  oh,  thou  too  wroth! 

Such  fire  is  in  my  breast,  like  Ibrahim's, 
That  flames  become  Rose-gardens  to  us  both! 

"  My  hand  draws  not  my  Lady's  skirts,  1  know  ! 
But  she  draivs  me  !    And  yet,  it  is  not  so  : 

Strong  love  for  her  this  is  which  claims  and  draws  me; 
It  is  not  wholly  of  my  will  I  go 

"  To  win  red  Kiss  of  Death.     Afar,  afar 
I  was  as  burnt  as  now  my  poor  wings  are 

Here,  in  the  flame.     The  worst  of  fire  befell  me 
Then,  when  my  love  first  kindled  at  her  Star" 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  179 

SAHEB.     You. see  it  was  for  comfort  that  he  fled, 
Rose-Body  !  to  your  neck !     How  could  he  dream, 
Kind  Gulbadan,  brave  Gulbadan,  who  takes 
Their  prey  from  tigers,  would  have  feared  a  moth  ? 

GULBADAN.     Ah,  Treasure-house   of   Bounty !    I   am 

shamed ! 

I  did  not  know  this  was  so  sad  a  one. 
Read,  Mirza  Saheb !  what  the  Moth  said  next. 

MIRZA.     Still  went  he  on,  exalting  constancy  : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.] 

"  Yet,  in  regard  of  Beauty  no  men  pray 
For  less  of  Beauty  —  tho'  that  Beauty  slay  ! 

Who  then  reproves  me,  loving  my  Beloved, 
Since  Life  at  her  white  feet  well-pleased  I  lay  ? 

"  Dost  thou  not  know  why  I  court  doom  and  Death  ? 
That  she  may  live  when  I  have  yielded  breath  ! 


180  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

For  that  is  fit !  and  she,  my  Best  beloved 
Burns  brightlier  when  my  flesh  enkindleth. 

"  How  wilt  thou  say,  then, '  Find  thyself  some  mate 
Suitable,  equal,  more  compassionate  '  f 

'Tis  all  as  though  to  one  by  scorpion  bitten 
Thou  shouldst  cry  '  Grieve  not ! '  as  console  my  state. 

"  Idle  is  counsel  which  men  cannot  take, 

And  vain  to  urge,  when  one  his  reins  doth  break, 

lAy,  G-holam!  drive  thou  slower!'     'Twas  well 

ivritten, 
Ishk  atesh  ,ast ;  and  wind  worse  fire  doth  make  ! 

"  Advice  is  wind,  and  passion  is  as  flame  ; 
The  panther  by  his  wounds  fiercer  became  : 

Thou  art  dull-witted,  being  what  thou  seemest, 
To  deem  that  I,  a  Lover,  am  the  same. 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  l8l 

"  Let  worshippers  of  Self  seek  such  as  they, 
In  spots  secure,  and  by  an  easy  way  ; 

Those  drunk  ivith  heavenly  self-forgetfulness 
G-o  on  a  perilous  quest,  glad  if  it  slay. 

"  When  first  zvith  this  desire  I  grew  possessed, 
All  other  hopes  I  rooted  from  my  breast  ; 

He  that  will  stake  his  head  is  called  true  Lover  ; 
The  feeble-livered  loves  his  life  the  best. 

"  What  f  on  a  sudden,  from  some  ambush,  Death 
Ends  me  in  some  vile  way  ?     Better  my  breath 
To  yield  as  I  will  yield  it,  willing-minded, 
Doomed  by  my  Lady's  sivift  delicious  wrath  ! 

"  'Tis  written  on  the  brow  when  we  must  die; 

• 

If  she  's  to  kill, '  Right  welcome  ! '  answer  I ; 

Since  one  day,  helpless,  we  must  quit  existence, 
Now  at  her  feet  I  lay  it,  joyously  '" 


1 82  WITH  SAT)I  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

GULBADAN.  If  there  were  lovers  like  to  him  'mongst  men, 
Women  would  be,  as  breeze  of  Mosellay 
Gentle  and  steadfast ;  and,  as  Ruknabad,1 
Limpid  and  sweet ! 

DILAZAR.  Yet  I  am  fain  to  hear 

What  spake  the  lamp  ! 

MIRZA.  It  answereth  in  the  next : 

[The  MIRZA  reads.'] 

One  night  —  I  do  remember  —  when  mine  eyes 
Closed  not,  I  heard  a  talking  in  this  wise  : 

Moth  said  to  Lamp-flame,  "  Ah,  my  Well-beloved  ! 
I  am  a  Lover ;  this  is  no  surprise 

"  If  I  do  weep  and  burn  ;  but  thou  !  but  thou  ! 
Why  do  I  see  thee  weeping,  burning,  now  ?" 

The  Lamp  replied,  "  Shirm-i-man !     Soft  Lover  ! 
The  honey  of  my  life  melts  from  my  brow!  " 

1  A  spot  and  stream  mentioned  by  Hafiz. 


OR,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  183 

It  said,  "  Oh,  tearful  Lover  !  cease  to  sigh  ! 
Passion's  ivorst  pangs  tJiou  knowest  not,  as  I: 

Leave  claiming,  leave  lamenting,  or  come  boldly  ! 
Nor  power,  nor  patience  of  Love's  mystery 

"Hast  thou,  who  fliest  from  my  naked  fire, 
Desiring,  yet  afraid  of  thy  Desire  ! 

Hither  and  thither  dost  thou  flutter,  fearful ; 
But  I  consume,  exhale,  glow  and  expire. 

"  If  flame  of  Love  thy  silver  feathers  scorch, 
Look  upon  me,  who  am  Love's  kindled  Torch  ! 

Think  on  the  Haze  and  torrent  of  my  burning, 
Forget  my  splendor,  lighting  Court  and  Porch  !  " 

There  lingered  still  some  little  of  the  night, 
When  one  of  Pdri-face  put  out  that  light ; 

The  smoke  rose  like  a  parting  soul :  it  whispered, 
"  Look,  Lover!  now,  indeed,  Love  endeth  right! 


1 84  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

"  This  is  the  Road  !    Rah  in  ast !  learn  of  me  ; 
Dying  thou  gainest  Love's  best  ecstasy  !  " 

Make  over  Lover  slain  no  lamentation  ; 
Cry  Shukur !  thanks  !  —  He  is  accepted  ;  he. 

Oh,  if  thou  be*st  true  Lover  wash  not  hand 

From  that  dear  stain  of  Love  !  from  worldly  brand 

Of  wealth  and  self-love  wash  it !    At  the  last 
Those  win,  who  spite  of  Fortune's  tempests,  stand, 

Grlad  to  wreck  all  for  Love.     I  say  to  thee  — 
I,  Sa'di —  launch,  not  on  that  boundless  Sea! 

But,  if  thou  puttest  forth,  hoist  sail,  quit  anchor  ! 
To  storm  and  wave  trust  thyself  hardily  ! 

SAHEB.     I  think,  with  Dilazjir,  if  we  should  sit 
Ofttiines,  good  Mirza  !  in  Bostan  with  you, 
We  might  almost  grow  bold  as  Gulbadan 
For  Allah's  holy  sake,  and  what  He  made ; 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  185 

Might  learn  to  love  like  Candle  and  like  Moth. 
And,  of  a  truth,  by  this  we- may  perceive 
Whither  your  Poet  brings  us.     But  now  dance 
One  little  measure  more,  and  sing  that  song 
The  Nautchnees  use  at  parting,  Gulbadan  ! 
Then  will  I  tell  you  what  our  Hindoos  say  — 
The  pundits  of  the  Poorans  and  the  Yed  — 
Touching  this  Love  in  Life,  and  all  it  means. 
GULBADAN.     Janab !     I  think   it   is   this   dance   you 

ask, 

Where  first  we  lay  aside  chuddur  and  veil 
And  glide  near  to  the  Feast-master,  and  gaze 
Eyes  into  eyes  ;  and  then  again  put  on 
The  garments,  and  steal  slow  away,  and  hide 
Our  face,  the  music  softly  dying  down  : 

[She  dances  and  sings  ;  DILAZAR  playing. ~\ 

I  have  danced,  oh,  my  Master  and  Lover ! 

All  my  best ; 


1 86  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

It  is  past,  I  shall  no  more  discover 

Neck  and  breast ! 

Thou  hast  seen,  thou  hast  seen  !  and,  by  glances 

Deep  impressed  — 

The  beat  of  my  feet  in  the  dances 

Told  the  rest. 

Jan-i-man!    Life  of  mine,  it  is  ended  ! 

O'er  my  face 
I  draw  veil !     Music  no  more  is  blended 

In  this  place 
With  the  songs  where  Love's  sigh  comprehended 

Soul's  embrace : 
KMda  Hdfiz  !    God  keep  you  attended 

By  His  grace ! 

SAHEB.   Thanks, most  kind  Gulbadan!  Tulip  and  Bird! 
Dancer  and  Singer  both,  and  both  so  sweet ! 
Yes !  it  is  this  the  S&nkhya  maxim  taught 
In  Nartakiva1  (do  you  know  it,  Sir  ?), 
Saying  ('t  is  section  sixty-nine,  book  three 

1  Nartakivatpravittasyapi  nivrittischaritarthyat,  &c.,  &c. 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  187 

Of  Kapila)  in  Sanskrit  terse  and  dark  : 
"  For  Nature,  in  the  shows  and  plays  of  life, 
Is  like  a  dancing-girl  who  paces,  sings, 
Reveals,  conceals,  approaches,  and  retires 
Before  the  eyes  of  him  whom  she  would  move  ;  " 
Till  —  when  it  is  enough  —  she  drops  her  veil, 
And  speaks  the  word  of  rest,  and  ceases  so, 
(As  Gulbadan  did,  when  tamboora  stayed), 
And  then  an  end  for  him  ;  since  Soul  is  taught. 

GULBADAN.    Ah,  English  Lord  !  but  those  that  teach 

the  Soul, 

Obeying  Nature,  or  hard  need,  or  fate  ; 
Or  set  to  this  by  whatso  force  or  fault ; 
Have  you  no  happy  wisdom,  too,  for  us  ? 

SAHEB.     My  Tiger-tamer  !  with  the  roe-deer  eyes, 
What  should  I  know  ?    Heaven  hath  its  scheme  for 

you, 

Its  pity,  and  its  pardon,  and  its  love, 
Even  as  for  queens.     Nature  doth  dance  for  you 
As  for  her  best ;  matches  her  songs  to  ear, 


1 88  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

Makes  eye-play,  heart-play,  till  she  fill  your  soul 
With  what  was  meant.    Insliallah  !  be  well-pleased  ! 
Would  I  had  such  good  hope  as  Gulbadan ! 

DiLAZiR.     But  what  is  meant?  Huzoor!  for  these  high 

words 
Make  even  Nautchnees  muse. 

SAHEB.  Calamity 

Of  heedless  minds,  bright  DilazSr  !  't  were  best 
If  Hussein  answered,  for  the  Mirza's  wit 
Guides  us  herein  —  yet  we  three  witless  ones 
Glean   thus   much,   as   I   deem,   from   this   fair 

night 

Spent  in  the  Garden  of  Queen  Arjamand  : 
That  all  the  glory  and  the  grace  of  things, 
Witchcraft  of  loveliness,  wonder  of  flesh, 
Fair  symmetry  of  forms,  deep  harmonies 
Of  line  and  limb  —  are  but  as  shadows  cast 
From  hidden  Light  of  Beauty  and  of  Love 
Thus  chiefly  here  revealed.     Nor  charm  alone 
Of  man  for  woman,  woman  for  the  man, 


OR,   THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  189 

"With  secret  of  Earth's  roll  kept  thus  at  speed, 

And  all  its  tender  fruits  of  motherhood, 

And  fatherhood,  and  friendships,  and  large  links 

Of  households,  villages,  towns,  nations,  race; 

But  all  things  beautiful  and  great  which  please, 

Those  wonder-whispering  stars,  that  poised  swift  moon, 

The  purple  peace  of  Night,  yon  pearly  Dawn 

Colored  with  day's  first  gold ;  this  cool  pure  breeze 

Which  is  the  breath  of  Nature  wakening, 

Those  roses  with  their  lovely  blush  come  back, 

These  birds  withdrawing  little  heads  from  wings, 

The  butterflies  abroad  spreading  soft  vans 

Of  blue  and  green  and  crimson,  silver-mealed ; 

The  blossoms  opening  for  them,  honey-filled, 

And  stately  things  and  rich  of  Art,  where  Man 

"Works  to  the  patterns  of  the  Master-hand, 

Such  as  yon  cloud-white  dome  which,  soaring,  notes 

The  coming  Morn  and  takes  its  first  warm  gleam 

On  the  glad  marble  :  —  these,  and  joy  of  Life, 


190  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

And  ecstasy  of  Love,  and  youth  and  faith, 

And  marvels  of  the  pictures  painted  us 

By  land  and  sea,  and  wonders  in  the  lap 

Which  fold  by  fold  the  Mother  opens  us, 

"Whispering  her  secrets  as  we  learn  to  hear  — 

And,  at  the  last,  that  last  large  joy  of  all, 

Trust  in  the  goodness  and  the  love  of  Him 

Who,  making  so  much  well,  will  end  all  well : 

These,  as  I  think,  are  pages  of  Love's  Book 

Which  here,  with  childhood's  stammering  lips,  we 

spell; 

And  those  who  study  deepest  learn  the  most 
That  Love  hates  naught  except  Self-love  —  will  have 
Self-love  uptorn,  disdained,  slain,  cast  away  ; 
Will  have  us  learn  in  Life's  great  book  to  be 
Patient  and  reasonable,  kindly  and  mild, 
Led  always  by  the  hand  of  what  we  love 
Nearer  and  nearer  to  the  Loveliest, 
The  Largest,  Highest,  Fullest,  Happiest,  Best ; 


OR,  THE  BOOK   OF   LOVE.  1 91 

Despising  none  because  't  is  Allah  made  — 
For  shall  men  wrangle  o'er  the  Nameless  Name? — 
And  envying  none  because  't  is  Allah  wills 
What  fortunes  each  shall  have,  and  where  his  place : 
But  lief  to  live  and  not  afraid  to  die, 
Since  Love,  that  would  not  wrong  us,  whispers  oft 
"  Die  now  for  me  !  "  as  though  we  could  not  die 
Obeying  Love  !     These  are  the  echoes,  Friends ! 
I  catch  from  Sa'di  and  wise  Hussein  here ; 
Music  for  modern  minds  subtle  —  but  yet 
Sweet  and  contenting  as  those  sounds  which  float 
Around  the  snow-pure  ceiling  of  yon  tomb, 
Lifting  the  heart  on  plumes  of  wings  unseen, 
And  linking  painful  Earth  with  blissful  Heaven. 
Thus  have  I  gathered  —  if  I  gather  well. 
MIRZA.     Well  hast  thou  gathered,  Sir !  and  truly  heard 
The  Sama',  that  deep  murmur  of  the  truth, 
Which  soundeth  everywhere  to  ears  unlocked  : 
And  thereto  lastly  Sa'di  leadeth  us  : 


IQ2  WITH  SA'DI  IN   THE  GARDEN; 

[TheMiRZA.  reads.] 

Was  one  Grod-loving  —  but  he  idly  gave 
His  heart  to  be  a  cruel  Beauty's  slave : 

Contempt  he  suffered;  those  that  lately  lauded 
Beat  Rumor's  drum  to  call  him  fool  and  knave  : 

Yet  all  ill  things  he  bore  for  her  fair  sake  ; 
Love  for  Life's  poison  antidote  doth  make  ! 

His  neck  to  harsh  rebuke  he  bowed  ;  his  forehead 
Was  bared  for  contumely  to  beat  and  break  :    • 

Nay  — for  all  those  reproachings  were  in  vain  ; 
Small  heed  hath  one  that  drowns  of  pelting  rain! 

When  Foot  of  Will  strikes  hard  on  Mock  of  Frenzy, 
Who  thinks  of  mud-splash,  or  of  garment's  stain? 

And,  one  night,  in  the  guise  of  her,  Shaitdn 
Ensnared  the  heart  of  this  betvildered  man  ; 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  193 

Soul-bound  Tie  lay  in  that  delicious  bondage. 
And  found  no  power  of  prayer  when  day  began. 

Angered  against  his  flesh  a  pool  he  sought ; 
Winter  upon  the  water 's  face  had  wrought 

A  marbled  door  of  ice  —  he  burst  and  plunged  : 
One  cried:  "Oh,  Fool!  to  death  thouivilt  be  brought!" 

The  youth  said  :  "  Vex  me  not  with  scorn  and  blame 
If  thus  I  punish  Self.     Five  days  the  flame 

Of  Love  had  scorched  my  blood,  consuming  patience; 
Noiv  I  extinguish  it  !  for  since  I  came 

"  Into  this  tender  sin  not  once  did  she 
Ask,  with  siveet  throat,  if  ill  or  well  I  be  ; 

Not  once  with  gentle  speech  of  grace  and  pity 
Lighten  the  burden  of  Love's  tyranny. 

"  But  He  !  but  He  !   Who  made  me  from  the  clay, 
And  set  my  Soul  within  it,  and  alway 

'3 


194  WITH   SATDI  IN  THE  G'ARDEN; 

• 

Pities  and  pardons,  and  enfolds  us  ever 
In  His  beneficence ,  shall  I  not  lay 

"  My  heart  back  in  His  hand  f  "     Quoth  Sa'di,  too. 
Lose  thyself  thus  if  thou  art  lover  true 

Of  Him  where  loss  is  gain  !     If  otherwise, 
Folloiv  the  path  of  flesh,  and  following,  rue  ! 

Yet,  fear  not,  lost  in  G-od,  dead  earth  to  be  ; 
He  will  remake,  when  He  unmaketh  thee  ! 

There  shoot  no  green  blades  from  the  wheat  and 

barley 
Till  seed  is  laid  in  dust  of  husbandry. 

That  which  doth  set  thee  free  from  self  shall  bring 
Nighness  to  Grod  !     This  is  a  subtle  thing 

The  selfless  only  know.     Not  self-possessing 
Art  thou  thine  own — but  self-abandoning! 

SAHEB.     So  are  we  back  again  on  Christ's  own  Hill 
In  Syria ;  under  the  Tree  with  Buddh  ! 


OR,    THE   BOOK   OF  LOVE.  195 

"  Lose  thyself,"  Sa'di  says,  "  to  find  thyself"  ; 

The  secret  word  of  Love  —  but,  will  it  come, 

That  hour  which  makes  the  sadness  end  in  joy, 

The  worst  turn  best  ? 
MIRZA.  Surely  that  hour  will  come  ! 

How  else  ?    The  Master  of  the  Cup  keeps  back 

His  richest  vintage  for  last  round  of  the  Feast. 

Is  there  not,  Gulbadan !  a  song  you  sing, 

"Where  some  one  asks  the  Pearl,  the  Rose,  the  Bird, 

If  it  was  hard  to  wait  ? 
GULBADAN.  CJiand  wakt  —  why,  yes  ! 

If  it  may  please,  I  do  remember  that. 

[GULBADAN  sings.] 

"  How  didst  thou  bear,  white  Pearl !  the  sea-waves' 
swelling, 

The  cold  green  underworld,  where  Day  is  Night  ? 
The  horrid  monstrous  fish,  the  dismal  dwelling, 

Shut  in  thy  shell  —  such  lustre  lost  to  sight  ? " 


196  WITH   SA'DI   IX   THE   GARDEN; 

"  Oh,  fair  Princess  !  on  whose  neck  I  am  gleaming, 
I  dreamed  of  thee  —  and  now  't  is  no  more  dreaming !  " 

"  How  didst  thou  pass,  red  Rose  !  the  bitter  weather 
While  I  was  songless  ?  "    "  Nightingale !  "  she  said, 

"  I  knew  that  Love  and  thou  would  come  together  ! 
In  Bud  of  Patience  Flower  of  Hope  I  laid 

Till    Zephyrs    breathed,    these    blessed    moon-times 
bringing, 

And  now  't  is  summer,  and  I  hear  thee  singing  !  " 

"  Why  didst  thou  toil,  bright  Bird,  thy  soft  nest  weaving, 

Early  and  late,  hiding  it  in  the  tree ; 
The  meadows  and  the  pleasant  sunshine  leaving, 

To  build  that  little  house  ?  "     "  Oh,  Poet !  see 
Under  my  wing  five  feathered  chirping  treasures  ! 
Was  I  not  wise  to  let  go  woodland  pleasures  ?  " 

"  How  didst  thou  bring  thy  well-beloved  hither 
Hand  in  hand,  Lover  with  the  happy  eyes ! 

Not  waiting  till  the  Dead  should  rise  together  ? 
Knowest  thou  not  that  this  is  Paradise  ?  " 

"  Angel  of  God  !  her  step  passed  near  my  tomb 

I  heard  it,  and  I  rose,  and  I  am  come !  " 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  197 

SAHEB.     I  have  a  wish  you  too  should  dance  for  us 
One  last  time,  Dilazar  —  as  Nature  does 
Before  Life's  lesson  closes,  teaching  men 
What  eyes  were  for,  and  hearts.     There  must  have 

happed 

Some  last  dance  in  this  Garden  for  the  Queen, 
Some  hour  when  all  that  love  of  Shah  Jahan, 
The  stately  days,  the  sovereignty,  the  bliss, 
Gathered  to  golden  finish  like  yon  horn 
Pointing  the  Taj.     Dance  and  sing,  Dilazar  ! 


[DILAZAR  rises  and  dances  slowly,  accompanying  her 
steps  by  the  voice  alone.'] 

Eyes  softly  bold  ! 

Bodice  bound  with  gold ! 

Girdle  clasping  what  love  would  enfold ! 

Light  glancing  feet 

Which  meet  —  part —  and  meet ! 

Dancing,  dancing  the  measure  sad  and  sweet : 


198  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Dance,  dance  still ! 

Dance,  if  you  will, 

All  the  night  long  as  the  slow  stars  dance  ! 

All  the  night  long 

I  would  hear  your  Indian  song, 

And  watch  you,  dark  Star  !  in  a  trance. 


Nay,  't  is  enough ! 

To  the  world  rude  and  rough 

Take  back  your  heart,  wistful  Lover  ! 

I  have  woven  well  the  spell ; 

In  your  spirit  it  will  dwell ! 

Remember  me  !  the  Dance  and  Song  are  over  ! 

SAHEB.     Even   so,  the   changes   and  the   charms   of 

Life 

Dance  to  the  heart  and  die  away  from  eyes, 
And  Love  takes  off  the  bells,  and  we  are  left 
To  think,  to  sink,  to  die  —  at  Burhanpur. 
But  that 's  no  end  !  the  Sama'  still  is  heard  ! 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  199 

God's  music  cannot  finish  with  one  tune ! 
Hath  Sa'di  more  upon  this  subtle  theme  ? 
MIRZA.     Yet  one  piece  more  and  then  the  end,  goocl 
Friend  ! 

[The  MIRZA  reads.} 

Thus  all  around  is  Sama' —  Music!  they. 
Who  live  in  love  of  Heav'n  ask  none  to  play 

Rabdb  or  pipe  !  the  common  sounds  of  Earth, 
Make  meanings!  horse-hoofs  clattering  on  the  way, 

Voices  of  waste  and  water,  nay  I  a  fly  — 
His  gilded  filmy  wings  he  doth  not  ply 

Before  God's  Lover,  but  that  man  puts,  fly-like, 
His  hands  across  his  head  in  ecstasy. 

Full  of  those  melodies  of  G-od  heard  here, 
His  Lover  heeds  not  much  for  bam  or  zer, 

High  note  or  low  note  !     To  his  eyes  the  call 
Of  wild  birds  winging  home  brings  a  glad  tear  : 


200  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

For  never  anywhere  one  instant  dumb 
The  Master  of  all  Music  doth  become  ; 

The  great  Chief-Singer  sings  —  but  ivhat  He  sings 
Sounds  clear  and  dear  only  to  ears  of  some. 

Brothers  !  I  say  not  what  that  Music  is, 
Nor  when  '£  is  heard  aright,  nor  why  the  bliss 

Of  melody  celestial  sets  life  dancing, 
Nor  all  the  spell  and  mystery  of  this  : 

Needs  that  it  find  right  hearer  !    If  SouVs  Bird 
Launch  wing s  from  Tower  of  Truth  at  that  Voice  heard, 

The  Angels  soar  not  higher :  if  a  man 
Be  sunk  in  folly  Shaitdn  speaks  the  word 

Which  holds  him  deaf.     ]How  should  an  evil  ear 
Catch  the  sweet  whisper  of  the  Sama1  clear  ? 

When  midnight  sitars  play  the  loved  one  listens, 
Not  he  whose  senses  steeped  in  wine-jars  were. 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  2OI 

When  Zephyr  breathes  '£  is  the  Rose  nods  to  it, 
Not  that  dead  trunk  which  the  steel  axe  must  split ! 

The  world  is  filled  with  Sama?,with  Grod  speaking, 
But  harmony  for  deafness  is  unfit. 

Say  !  hast  thou  marked  the  camel  quicken  speed, 
And  step  forth  joyous,  when  the  Arab's  reed 

Pipes  him  a  desert-strain  ?  have  camels  gladness 
At  sweet  sounds,  and  is  man  of  baser  breed  ? 

SAHEB.     Fain  would  we  hear  such  strains,  if  we  had 
grace ! 

But  you  who  know  all  music,  Gulbadan ! 

Is  there  still  one  of  all  your  hundred  songs 

With  echo  of  the  Sama',  of  this  sound 

Unheard,  yet  sweeter  than  the  things  we  hear  ? 
GULBADAN.     I  unroll  all  my  cloth  of  memory ,( 

Searching  for  such,  my  Lord !     If  we  please  you, 

We  are  well-pleased.     Yes  !  there  is  this  I  know  : 
Dilazar  !  play  the  "  song  without  a  sound." 


202  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 


\_She  sings,  DILAZAR  playing.] 

The  Bulbul  wailed,  "  Oh,  Rose  !  all  night  I  sing, 
And  Thou,  Beloved  !  utterest  not  one  thing." 
"  Dear  Bird  !  "  she  answered,  "  scent  and  blossoming 
Are  music  of  my  Song  without  a  sound." 

The  Cypress  to  the  Tulip  spake  :  "  What  bliss 
Seest  thou  in  sunshine,  dancing  still  like  this  ?  " 
"  My  cup,"  the  Tulip  said,  "  the  wind's  lips  kiss  ; 

Dancing  I  hear  the  Song  without  a  sound." 

The  gray  Owl  hooted  to  the  Dove  at  morn, 
"  Why  art  thou  happy  on  thy  jungle-thorn  ?  " 
"Hearest  thou  not,"  she  cooed,  "o'er  Earth's  face  borne 
This  music  of  the  Song  without  a  sound  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Darweesh  !  "  moaned  a  King,  "  Vainly  I  pray 
For  Allah's  comfort,  kneeling  day  by  day." 
"  Sultan  !  "  quoth  he,  "  be  meek,  and  hear  alway 
The  music  of  His  Mercy  without  sound." 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  2O3 

"  Poet !  "  a  Queen  sighed,  "  why  alone  to  thee 
Come  visions  of  that  world  we  cannot  see  — 
Not  great  nor  rich ?  "     "I  borrow  minstrelsy," 

Smiling  he  said, "  from  Songs  without  a  sound! " 

jShirin-i-man  !  dear  Lover !  true  and  sweet, 

Ask  no  more  if  I  love,  nor  kiss  my  feet ; 

But  hear,  with  cheek  against  my  bosom's  beat, 

The  music  of  the  Song  without  a  sound ! 

SAHEB.     Fair  ladies,  thanks !  the  wind  of  morning  lulls 
Lest  it  lose  half  a  note  of  your  soft  strain. 
But  here 's  broad  Day  at  last !  we  have  out  watched 
The  Nightingales,  and  quite  forgotten  sleep. 
How  glorious  comes  the  Morn  !     So  it  will  come, 
As  I  do  hope,  and  as  great  Sa'di  says, 
After  Life's  night  of  loneliness  and  lack, 
To  all  the  Lovers  who  were  tried  and  true. 
So  has  it  come,  then  —  ages  back  —  to  him 
That  Sultan  of  the  heart  of  Arjamand 


204  WITH   SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

Who  loved  his  Queen  so  well,  and  laid  her  here  : 
Look,  Gulbadan  !  —  unless  thy  large  black  eyes 
Be  heavy  with  long  vigil — how  the  Light 
Walks  like  an  Angel,  making  all  things  clear ! 
See,  Dilazar !  the  palm  feathers  are  gilt 
With  new  gold  of  another  day  for  Earth, 
And  our  Queen's  tomb  is  turned  to  rose  and  pearl ! 
There  must  be  some  sweet  Persian  verse  to  praise 
This  perfect  hour. 

GULBADAN.  We  are  not  weary  yet, 

Since  you  are  not ;  and  we  would  serve  you  still 
Who  are  not  proud,  and  have  such  gentle  thoughts 
Not  for  the  great  ones  .only,  but  for  us. 
There  comes  a  song  to  mind ;  Sister  !  play  up 
Chaman  az  nazim  : 

[They  sing  alternate  verses.'] 

GULBADAN.    The  garden  was  laden  with  musk  by  the 
breeze, 


OR,   THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  205 

It  whispered   while  Earth   stirred,  it  rustled  the 

trees ; 
From  the  tresses  of  night  fell  the  last  loosened 

star ; 
Ay  !  chaman  az  nazim-i-sabah  mushkbar  ! 


DILAZAR.     The  flowers  ope'd  their  lids ;  from  the  wing 

of  the  bird 

The  feathered  head  lifted ;  the  jessamine  heard 
All  pale  in  her  charms  as  true  Lovers'  looks  are, 
Saman  az  latdfat  chu  rukhsar-i-yar  ! 

GULBADAN.     The  Rose  was  awake  ere  the  breath  of 

dawn  blew, 

With  a  tear  on  her  cheek,  as  the  Nightingale  knew ; 
But  she  parted  her  lips  now  and  lifted  her  face  : 
Zi  bad-i-sahar  gul  dihan  kurdaTi  baz  ! 

DILAZAR.     In  the  light  of  the  morning  her  beautiful 

breast 
She  bared  for  her  lover,  with  passion  confessed ; 


206  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE  GARDEN; 

All  smiling  and  nodding  she  gave  him  her  grace  ; 
Chu  madshuk-i-khanddn  adshik  nawdz  ! l 

MIRZA.    Yea,  Girl !  thou  canst  not  sing  of  love  too  sweet 
§o  it  be  known  that  all  these  pretty  words 
Shadow  the  true  words,  play  at  baby  joys, 
Lisp  the  first  letters  of  the  larger  life  : 
Yea,  Girl !  thou  canst  not  drink  this  wine  too  deep, 
Nor  brim  the  cup  too  full,  so  it  be  known 
The  Cup-bearer  is  bliss,  and  not  the  wine, 
The  picture  naught,  the  Painter  all  in  all ! 
Sama' !  Sanaa' !  oh  !  hear,  behind  the  strings, 
Past  voice  of  the  Beloved,  past  Morn's  breath, 
Past  Rose  and  Nightingale,  and  yielded  lips  ; 
Past  high  delights  of  learning,  lore  and  art, 
Oh,  beyond  Sa'di  even,  God's  sweet  call 

1  These  four  refrains  may  be  rendered  literally : 

"  The  garden  was  filled  with  musk  by  the  breeze  of  morn." 
"  The  jasmine,  in  delicacy,  was  as  the  cheek  of  the  Beloved." 
"  The  rose  opened  her  lips  to  the  breath  of  Dawn." 
"  Like  a  laughing  beauty  caressing  her  lover." 


OR,   THE  BOOK   OF  LOVE.  2O/ 

Lifting  all  hearts  by  Jamdl  and  Jaldl, 

By  Tenderness  divine,  and  Majesty, 

To  Love  and  Life  which  have  not  place  nor  name  ! 

Intoxicate  yourselves  with  that  wise  dream, 

BeSOfi! 

SAHEB.          Must  we  don  the  woollen  cap, 
And  drink  in  Shiah  taverns  ? 

MIRZA.  Friend  !  the  heart 

Weareth  no  garb.     But  see  !  the  Sun  is  come, 
And  hath  his  presence  gloriously  told, 
Like  a  great  King  before  whose  feet  they  spread 
The  crimson  carpet  of  expectancy ! 
Now  must  we  part,  belated  Birds  of  night, 
"Who  talked,  i'  the  dark,  of  Love  and  Life  some  while, 
Yet  blink,  only  to  look  at  this  gold  hem 
Of  Heaven's  hid  splendor  which  men  call  the  Morn. 
You  will  not  quite  forget  the  Ishk,  and  us, 
The  roses  we  outwatched,  the  nightingales 
That  vexed  their  hearts,  and  stayed  their  burning 
songs, 


208  WITH   SA'DI  IN   THE   GARDEN; 

And  gathered  round,  for  enviousness  to  hear 
Gulbadan's  voice,  and  strings  of  Dilazur  ? 

SAHEB.     Never  shall  1  forget ! 

MIRZA.  And  when  men  say, 

In  your  '  Wil&yeti '  beyond  the  seas, 
That  Islam  hath  no  deep  philosophies, 
Will  you  not  speak  of  Sa'di  and  the  night 
We  sate  together  underneath  this  Taj ; 
And  tell  your  people  ?    Dilazur !  read  yet 
Ba  dil  ffoftam  az  Misr  to  the  Saheb  : 

[DILAZAR  reads. ,] 

In  many  lands  I  have  wandered,  and  wondered,  and 

listened  and  seen ; 
And  many  my  friends  and  companions  and  teachers 

and  lovers  have  been. 

And  nowhere  a  corner  was  there  but  I  gathered  up 

pleasure  and  gain, 
From  a  hundred  gardens  rose-blooms,  from  a  thousand 

granaries  grain ; 


OR,  THE   BOOK  OF  LOVE.  2OQ 

And  I  said  to  my  Soul  in  secret  "  Oh,  thou  who  from 

journeys  art  come ! 
It  is  meet  we  should  bear  some  token  of  love  to  the 

stayers  at  home  ; 

For  where  is  the  traveller  brings  not  from  Nile  the 
sweet  green  reed, 

Or  Kashmiri  silk,  or  musk-bags,  or  coral,  or  cardamom- 
seed  ? " 

I  was  loath  from  all  that  Pleasaunce  of  the  Sun,  and 

its  words  and  ways, 
To  come  to  my  country  giftless,  and  showing  no  fruit 

of  my  days : 

But  if  my  hands  were  empty  of  honey,  and  pearls  and 

gold, 
There  were  treasures  far  sweeter  than  honey,  and 

marvellous  things  to  be  told, 

Whiter  than  pearls,  and  brighter  than  the  cups  at  a 

Sultan's  feast, 
And  these  I  have  brought  for  love-tokens,  from  the 

Lords  of  Truth,  in  my  East 

14 


210  WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GARDEN; 

SAHEB.    Yes  !  for  I  know  a  Friend  who  is  as  I 
Your  lover,  and  a  seeker  for  the  Truth, 
And  he  will  strive  to  teach  what  Sa'di  taught 
Among  my  people,  if  this  Persian  Rose 
Under  our  skies  can  open  her  rich  leaves, 
And  western  Nightingales  sing  praise  to  them ! 
Mirza  !  my  grateful  hand  !     Angels  of  God 
Say  some  day  to  your  gentle  soul  in  Heaven, 
Khtish  Amadid  ! l     Dilazar !  tie  this  gold 
Tight  in  your  cloth,  and  keep  one  Saheb's  name 
Green   in  your  thoughts,  as  our  Queen's  Garden 

is! 

And  Gulbadan  !  dear  Gulbadan !  I  kiss 
That  little  palm  which  took  the  baby  safe 
Forth  from  the  tiger's  jaws ;  I  praise  and  press 
These  gentle  lips  which  sang  so  nieltingly : 
To-morrow  I  will  send  your  wounded  arm, 
Which  bears  its  red  hurt  like  a  Rose  of  God, 

1  "  You  are  welcome  !  " 


OR,  THE  BOOK  OF  LOVE.  211 

The  golden  armlet !     Ah  !  not  thanks  !     I  owe 
More  than  much  gold  —  more  than  you  know  —  to 

you. 

Remember  me ! 
GULBADAN.  Inshallah  !  till  we  die ! 


Cambridge  :   John  Wilson  &  Son,  University  Press. 


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OCT01  1930 


